BIG  "SLOW 

s  Charge  unto 
Israel. 


BV 
4260 
M5 
1836 


REV.   ANDREW  BIGELOWS 


ANNUAL    ELECTION    SERMON, 


GOD'S    CHARGE    UNTO    ISRAEL, 


S  E  K  M  O  N 


PREACHED  BEFORE 


HIS  HONOR  SAMUEL  T.  ARMSTRONG, 

LIEUTENANT   GOVERNOR, 

THE  HONORABLE  COUNCIL, 

AHD 

THE   LEGISLATURE   OF   MASSACHUSETTS, 

AT    THE 

ANNUAL     ELEC  TION, 

ON  WEDNESDAY,  JANUARY,  6,  1836. 


BY     ANDREW    BIGELOVV, 
^ 

Pastor  of  the  Fiist  Cougrejfational  Church  in  Taunton. 


Boston: 

DUTTON   AND    WENTVVORTH,   PRINTERS   TO    THE   STATE. 

1836 


dtontmontoealtl)  of  f&assacjwsetts, 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  JAN.  7,  1836. 

Ordered,  That  Messrs.  LEONARD  of  Norton,  WALKER  of  Taunton,  and  FULLER 
of  Newton,  be  a  Committee  to  wait  on  the  Rev.  ANDREW  BIGELOW,  and  present 
him  the  thanks  of  this  House,  for  his  very  interesting  and  appropriate  discourse,  de- 
livered yesterday  before  the  Legislature,  and  request  a  copy  for  the  press. 

L.  S.  GUSHING,  Clerk. 


s\  The  length  of  the  ensuing  discourse  obliged  the  omission  or  abridgement  of 
considerable  portions  of  it  at  the  time  of  delivery.  It  is  now  presented  as  originally 
prepared  for  the  pulpit  and  occasion. 


SERMON. 


**  SPEAK    UNTO    THE    CHILDREN    OF    ISRAEL,  THAT    THEY    GO    FOR- 
WARD." 

Exodus,  nth  Charter,  15th  Verse. 

IT  was  a  dark  hour  for  Israel,  when  the  charge, 
now  rehearsed,  was  given  by  the  voice  of  Israel's 
God  to  the  leader  of  the  chosen  tribes  ;  a  still  dark- 
er hour,  when  the  order  it  conveyed  was  proclaimed 
in  the  hearing  of  the  awe-struck  host,   and  their 
marshalled  bands  prepared  to  resume  their  march. 
Pilgrims    to    a   distant   land,  advanced  but  a  few 
stages  on  their  toilsome  route,  not  yet  emancipated 
from  the  power,  and  still  within  the  dominions  of  a 
fierce  and  cruel  monarch,  they  were  already  brought 
into  a  situation  of  great   perplexity    and    hazard. 
Encamped  in  a  desert  place,  entangled  mid  rocky 
defiles, — the  sea  in  front, — bleak  mountains  around, 
— a  hostile  force  urged  on  by  a  ruthless  chief  press- 
ing upon  their  rear,  —  the  crisis  was  fearful,  —  the 
fate   of  Israel   appeared    to  be  inevitably    sealed. 


6 

To  stay,  was  to  perish.     To  resist,  was  madness. 
To  advance,  was  seemingly  but  to  plunge  into  a 
watery  grave.     At  this   juncture,  the  mandate   of 
God  as  recorded  in  the  text,  thundered  through  the 
camp   of    Israel.     "  The   Lord   said   unto   Moses, 
Speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel,   that  they   GO 
FORWARD!"     And  forward  they  moved.     He,  the 
herald  who  transmitted  the  divine  command, —  with 
unshrinking  reliance  on  the  succouring  arm  of  God, 
— himself  led  the  terror-stricken  van.     Arrived  at 
the  brink  of  the    intercepting  flood,  he  stretched 
forth  his  rod,  —  the  mysterious  wand  which  oft  had 
waved  in  dreadful  power  over  Egypt, —  and  the  sea 
was  cleft  in  twain,  opening  a  path  for  the  amazed 
and  rejoicing  tribes,  through  crystal  walls  miracu- 
lously heaped  on  either  hand.     The  opposite  bank, 
that  friendly  longed-for  shore,  was  reached  in  safe- 
ty.     The  sea    then  regained  its  ancient  channel, 
engulphing  at  the  same  time  with  terrific  doom,  the 
pursuing  host, — burying  the  pride  and  flower  of 
.Fgypt,  its  chariots  and  horsemen,  its  captains  and 
v  arriors,  its  nobles  and  menials,  prince,  page  and 
v<ssals  beneath  its  wild  and  vengeful  billows. 

It  was  a  dark  hour  for  that  little  company  of  pious 
ar.d  dauntless  spirits,  —  exiles  from  the  land  of  their 
forefathers,  sufferers  for  conscience  sake,  men 
"persecuted  but  not  forsaken,  perplexed  yet  not 
in  despair," — when  they -gathered  upon  the  quay 
of  Delft,  on  the  memorable  morn  of  the  22d  of 
July,  1620,  surrounding  their  spiritual  chief,  the 


patriarchal  Robinson,  and  knelt  down  and  implored 
of  God,   that    He    would    grant    "aright    way  for 
themselves    and    their    little    ones,    and    all    their 
substance,"*  on  their  voyage   to   that   far-off  land, 
here    in   this    Western    hemisphere,   whither   they 
were  bound.     Yes,  dark  was  the  hour  when  with 
streaming    eyes    and    bursting    hearts,    that    little 
group  joined  in  the  last  prayer  they  were  destined 
to  listen  to  from  the  lips  of  their  venerable  pastor 
and    guide  ; — when   they    clung   around    the   good 
man's  knees,  and  took  their  parting  look,  and  ex- 
changed a  fond,  final  embrace  ; — when  turning  from 
their  pleasant  homes  though  in  a  strange  land,  they 
embarked  in  quest  of  a  refuge  on  these  then  house- 
less,   savage    shores, — when   so   touching   was  the 
scene  that  even  the  bosoms  of  the  coldest  observers 
heaved  in  sympathy,  and  tears  coursed  down   the 
cheeks  of  men  "  albeit  of  no  melting  mood."     But  a 
call  as  from  heaven  summoned  them  away.     They 
felt  and  obeyed  the  holy  impulse.     And  He  who 
holdeth  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and 
who  ruleth  the  winds  and  the  seas,  provided  for 
them  a  safe  pathway  across  the  Atlantic  deep  ;   and 
hither  they  came  and  laid  the  foundations  of  an 
empire,  which  so  long  as  it  shall  stand  and  flourish, 
will  abide  a  monument  of  their  faith  and  fortitude, 
their  heroism  and  their  renown. 

It  was  a  dark  ho.ur  when  in  1675  the  flame  of  a 


*  Ezra  viii.  21, — the  text  from  which  their  beloved  Pastor.  Robinson,  preached 
a  parting  discourse  on  the  melancholy  occasion. 


8 

most  barbarous  Indian  war  was  lighted  on  our  soil ; 
when  the'genius  of  a  fierce  and  crafty  savage  had 
succeeded  in  combining  the  most  fearful  elements  of 
destruction  ever  let  loose  on  the  habitations  of  civil- 
ized man  ;   when  the  cloud  which  had  been  gathering 
in  blackness,  and  hung  lowering  over  the  land,  at 
length  burst  with  appalling  violence  ;   and  the  de- 
mon of  havoc  and  slaughter  sped  on   the  furious 
blast ;  and  amid  savage  yells,  and  victim  groans, 
and  the  hideous  glare  of  blazing  villages  flashing 
through  our  vallies,  and  reflected  from  hill  to  hill, 
the  work  of  threatened  extermination  seemed  hasten- 
ing to  its  certain  and  awful  consummation.     But  did 
our  fathers  quail  at  the  peril?      Did  they  "shake 
and  become  as  dead  men"?     No,  they  girded  them- 
selves to  deeds  of  desperate  resistance.     They  rallied 
with  intrepid  firmness  "  to  play  the  men"  in  defence 
of  their  homes,   their  fields  and  their  altars  ;    and 
they  moved  where  danger  was  greatest,  and  where 
shafts  flew  thickest.     For  God  spake  and  said  unto 
them,  Go  forward!     And  lifting  their  banners  in  the 
dread  name  of  Israel's  God,  they  struggled,  prevailed 
and  vanquished. 

It  was  a  dark  hour  when,  a  century  still  later, 
our  nearer  ancestors,  then  suffering  under  oppres- 
sion and  goaded  by  wrongs,  roused  themselves  in  a 
burst  of  indignant  patriotism  to  cast  off  the  yoke  of 
a  grievous  foreign  tyranny, — when  they  appealed  for 
justice  and  cried  for  succor  to  the  God  of  Battles, 
and  with  means  as  feeble  as  the  Hebrew  stripling's, 


went  forth  to  their  stern  encounter  with  a  giant 
adversary.  That  conflict  was  resolutely  waged. 
Their  march  was  onward,  "  from  conquering  to 
conquer."  They  were  made  strong  in  the  Lord, 
and  by  the  power  of  His  might.  For  God  was  with 
them  ;  and  HE — their  defender — was  invincible. 

The  time  would  fail  me  to  count  up  all  the  dark 
hours,  contrasted  with  the  bright  passages  and  aus- 
picious deliverances,  which  crowd  our  country's 
annals ;  to  trace  the  steps  of  our  national  march 
from  feebleness  to  power,  from  lowliness  to  gran- 
deur ;  to  exhibit  the  fruits  of  our  fathers'  courage, 
constancy,  and  trust  in  God  ;  to  point  out  the  won- 
drous energy  of  their  faith  crowned,  as  it  was,  by 
most  brilliant  and  surprising  issues  ;  to  show  how  a 
benignant  Providence  has  oft  proved  better  than  our 
fears, — turning  our  reverses  into  triumphs,  our  mis- 
chances into  blessings,  and  "from  seeming  evil,  ever 
educing  good." 

Brought  as  we  are  to  the  opening  of  another  year, 
and  assembled  at  the  chosen  era  for  the  re-organi- 
zation of  the  civil  authorities  of  the  government  of 
our  favored  Commonwealth,  as  we  pause  to  pay  our 
grateful  homage  to  that  Almighty  Power  whose  guar- 
dian hand  has  hitherto  led  and  sustained  us,  it  is  nat- 
ural to  glance  at  the  past,  in  connection  with  the 
present  and  the  anticipated  future,  and  to  ponder  upon 
our  joint  privileges,  solicitudes  and  obligations.  We 
have  completed  another  stage  of  our  civil  progress. 


10 

We  have  come  to  Elim,* — pleasant  for  its  salubrious 
fountains,  its  verdant  pastures  and  its  shady  palms. 
But  it  is  only  for  temporary  refreshment  and  repose, 
—  to  cheer  our  hearts  with  the  goodly  scene  around 
us ;  and  to  reanimate  our  zeal  and  fortify  our  reso- 
lution for  the  toils  and  conflicts  incident  to  our  future 
appointed  career.  We  are  then  to  strike  our  tents, 
and  set  forward  our  standards,  and  press  to  the  high 
destinies  which  allure  us  from  afar. 

Let  me  have  your  indulgence  then  as  I  proceed 
to  remark  on  a  few  of  our  combined  privileges  as 
citizens — on  some  qualifying  circumstances  in  our 
otherwise  bright  and  enviable  lot — on  the  duties 
imposed  by  the  juncture — and  on  the  means  and 
motives  for  obviating  existing  dangers,  and  perpet- 
uating the  blessings  we  enjoy. 

I.  Let  us  survey  a  few  of  our  privileges.  The 
blessings  we  possess,  are  mainly  the  accumulated 
treasures,  or  the  rich  products  of  the  disposing  agen- 
cies, of  by-gone  generations.  We  owe  them,  under 
God,  to  the  wisdom,  firmness  and  piety  of  the  men 
of  clear  heads,  stout  hearts,  and  high-souled  pur- 
poses, who  planted  the  germs  of  empire  upon  our 
shores.  We  dwell  on  a  soil  redeemed  by  their  valor 
from  savage  foes,  and  reclaimed  by  their  patient 
industry  from  a  state  of  rudeness  to  fertility,  from  a 
wilderness  to  "a  fruitful  field." 

We  enjoy  by  transmission  the  heritage  of  Liberty. 
That  precious  boon,  denied  to  many  nations  and 

Exodus  xv.  27. 


11 

but  partially  possessed  and  fiercely  strove  for  by 
others,  is  here   the  immunity  of  all.      Whilst,  in 
divers  regions,  the  will  of  one,  or  the  tyranny  of  a 
few,  holds  in  slavish  subjection  the  prostrate  multi- 
tude ;  whilst  there  the  people  are  degraded  to  a 
populace,  and  the  populace  sunk  to  the  character 
and  condition  of  a  mob  ;  whilst  the  great  mass  of 
mankind   are  counted  as  scarce  endued   with  the 
attributes  of  humanity,  or  but  just  supplied  with  so 
much  intelligence  as  to  render  them  mechanically 
more  serviceable  to  their  proud  oppressors, — are 
treated  as  drudges  and  tools  born  to  contribute  to 
the  convenience  or  pleasure,  the  luxury,  dignity  and 
pomp  of  the  haughty  ones  who  trample  them  down  ; 
— here  the  poorest  citizen  is  recognised  in  his  just 
relations.     He  stands  up  every  inch  a  man.     He  is 
placed  on  an  equality  of  footing,  in  personal  rights, 
with  the  most  prosperous  and  opulent.     Station  can 
give  no  prerogative  to  crush,  or  to  browbeat.     The 
poor  man's  hut  is  his  castle, — more  strongly  guarded 
from  spoil  or  aggression,  than  feudal  fortress  in  the 
iron  age  of  Gothic  barbarism.     The  avenues  of  pre- 
ferment, the  seats  of  power,  the  halls  of  legislation, 
civic  honors,  official  distinctions,  are  open  to  the 
meritorious  of  every  class.     Useful  arts,  gainful  traf- 
fic, the  rewards  of  industry  invite  the  competition  of 
all ;  and  every  man,  pursuing  the  business  of  an 
honest  calling,  may  "  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  fig 
tree,  having  none  to  molest  or  to  make  him  afraid." 
But  Liberty,  sound  Liberty,  is  not  licentiousness. 


12 

The  broadest  charter  of  freedom  can  never  give 
exemption  from  all  restraints.  A  man,  whether 
high  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  is  not  privileged  to  do  that 
which  is  alone  right  in  his  own  eyes, — to  pursue 
selfish  and  sinister  aims,  where  they  interfere  with 
the  just  claims  or  the  absolute  immunities  of  others. 
The  moment  he  enters  into,  or  finds  himself  incor- 
porated within  the  social  state,  he  has  to  relinquish 
some  personal  and  natural  rights  both  for  the  com- 
mon interest,  and  in  consideration  of  greater  com- 
pensating advantages  to  himself.  Paradoxical  as  it 
may  seem,  the  first  step  to  the  enjoyment  of  rational 
liberty,  is  the  abridgement  of  a  certain  measure  of 
personal  freedom.  A  citizen  must  sacrifice  a  por- 
tion of  his  original  rights,  or  make  them,  over  (so  to 
speak)  to  the  custody  of  the  community  at  large, 
His  will,  in  many  particulars,  must  be  subordinate 
to,  or  regulated  by,  the  will  of  the  public.  But,  in 
return,  he  enjoys  its  protection  for  rights  reserved, 
as  well  as  others  acquired  by  the  implied  exchange. 
Obedience  is  the  price  of  such  protection  ;  and  the 
power  of  a  state — the  united  force  of  the  individuals 
composing  it — is  pledged,  by  parity,  to  make  good 
that  protection  to  the  humblest  of  its  citizens,  stipu- 
lating life,  property,  and  numerous  domestic  and 
social  privileges. 

Hence  arises  the  necessity  of  law — a  frame  of 
government — a  structure  of  civil  polity, — all  skilfully 
arranged  and  wisely  administered  to  secure  the  pri- 
vate interests  of  individuals,  and  to  subserve  the 


13 

salutary  ends  of  the  general  union.  Hence,  too, 
the  duty  and  indispensableness  oflegislation.  Codes 
of  jurisprudence  are  a  natural  consequence.  And 
heads  there  must  be  to  plan,  and  hands  io  execute  ; 
rulers  to  enact,  and  a  people  disposed  (or  submis- 
sion. In  a  populous  community — one  highly  ad- 
vanced and  civilized — such  arrangements  are  matters 
of  great  delicacy  and  moment.  They  require  from 
rulers— besides  a  careful  garnering  of  the  lessons  of 
experience, — an  enlightened  observation,  the  faculty 
of  prospective  adaptation,  keen,  patient  and  profound 
research  ;  and  withal  an  honesty  of  purpose,  and 
fearless,  single-eyed  probity.  Laws  thus  framed  are 
an  inestimable  dowry  to  a  land.  They  cannot  be 
too  highly  prized,  nor  too  sacredly  guarded.  And 
the  memory  of  their  contrivers  should  be  enshrined 
in  the  grateful  hearts  of  the  people  whom  they 
benefit. 

Such  are  the  accessory  distinctions  of  our  fortune. 
For,  besides  the  heritage  of  Liberty,  we  have  the 
heritage  of  Law.  Our  civil  jurisprudence  is  the 
digest  of  the  wisdom  of  ages.  Our  constitutions  of 
.government  transcend,  the  vaunted  models  of  other 
and  elder  times.  Our  statute-books  are  the  fruits  of 
a  legislation  illustrated  by  the  lights  of  the  past, 
but  shaped  and  improved  according  to  the  wants,  cir- 
cumstances and  perceptions  of  the  present.  Laws, 
in  fine,  we  have  providing  for  the  social  order,  the 
harmony  and  well-being  of  those  collectively  on 
whom  they  operate  ;  laws  which  shield  the  meanest 
2 


14 

and  awe  the  mightiest,  and  spread  the  shelter  of  a 
common  defence  over  the  poor  man's  cabin  and  the 
rich  man's  mansion. 

Defects  in   theory,   or  faults  of  detail,   may  be 
detected  in  these  institutions ;  but  a  novice  may  spy 
flaws  in  the  noblest  monuments  of  human  skill  and 
genius ;  and  fools  may  blame  what  wise  men  cannot 
always  remedy.     It  is  the  part  of  legislation  to  en- 
deavor to  rectify  what  is  palpably  amiss  ;   to  answer 
every  reasonable  demand  on  its  rightful  interposi- 
tion ;   and  to  keep  pace  with  the  progress  of  society 
by  correspondent  improvements  in  its  statutory  pro- 
visions.     The  best  political  machinery   is  liable  to 
injury  and  disorders.     It  may  be  weakened  by  using, 
or  acquire  a  rust  from  age.     Its  weights  may   run 
down,  some  spring  may  give  way,  a  wheel  may  be 
broken,  or  thrown  from  the  grapple  of  the  master- 
regulator.      Our  civil   fathers  are    the  artificers  to 
whom  we  must  look  for  the  requisite  repairs.     Theirs 
is  the  task, — and  at  times  a  difficult  and  no  enviable 
one, — to  replace  the  unsound,  to  strengthen  what  is 
weak,  and  haply  to  wind  up  and  re-adjust  the  curi- 
ous mechanism.     More  or  less  of  this  duty  is  annu- 
ally necessary.     But  there  is  danger  of  over-much 
doing.     Innovations  may  not  be  improvements ;  nor 
are  substitutes  always  amendments. 

There  was  much  of  good  sense  in  the  language  of 
the  Barons  of  England,  when  rebuking  the  arbitrary 
and  capricious  edicts  of  a  tyrant^  they  said,  "  We 
are  opposed  to  changing  the  laws  of  the  Realm." 


15 

And  much  also  of  shrewdness  in  the  reply  of  the 
mercantile  deputation  of  Bordeaux  to  Louis  XIV. 
when  asked  what  should  be  done  to  advance  their 
interests?  "Sire,"  was  their  answer,  "Let  us 
alone."  Every  one  knows  that  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  encumbering  with  help.  Where  this  may  be  sus- 
pected in  questions  of  legislation,  the  wisest  course 
obviously  is,  to  refrain  from  so  thankless  an  office. 
Better  assuredly  it  is,  to  do  nothing >  than  work 
mischief;  better  to  bear  the  incidental  ill,  than 
endanger  the  abounding  good ;  better  to  acquiesce 
in  a  mixed  benefit,  than  pass  from  a  partial  bad  to  a 
possible  worse,  As  our  history  knows  of  no  fabu- 
lous age,  so  our  ordinances  of  government  date  back 
to  no  mean  nor  obscure  origin.  Beginning  with  the 
memorable  compact  on  board  the  May  Flower,  when 
the  emigrant  colonists  deliberately  combined  into 
"a  civil  body  politic,"  and  solemnly  bound  them- 
selves to  yield  "all  due  subjection  to  such  just  and 
equal  laws,  acts,  offices  and  constitutions"  as  should 
from  time  to  time  be  enacted,  and  be  "thought  most 
meet  and  convenient"  for  the  general  good, — com- 
mencing with  that  noble  instrument  as  the  corner- 
stone of  our  civil  edifice, — the  fabric  has  risen  and 
expanded,  growing  with  the  wants,  and  modified  by 
the  circumstances  of  succeeding  times,  till  attaining 
its  present  fair  and  majestic  proportions.  If,  aside 
from  occasional  repairs,  any  alterations  be  thought 
needful  in  so  venerable  a  pile,  prudence  would  sug- 
gest that  they  be  made  in  accordance  with  the  rule 


16 

of  established  symmetry.  If  an  enlargement  of  the 
dimensions  be  called  for,  let  it  be  done  by  the 
simple  method  of  annexations,  instead  of  the  bolder 
process  of  entire  re-construction  on  another  ground- 
plan  and  model. 

I  cannot  leave  this  topic  without  adverting  to  a 
feature  of  unfairness  charged  upon  our  systems  of 
legislation.  Our  laws  are  said  to  operate  unequally. 
A  class  of  political  seers  has  risen  up  in  our  times, 
who  pretend  to  have  spied  out  this  blemish ;  though 
they  leave  unexplained  how  it  chanced  to  escape  the 
penetration  of  antecedent  examiners.  Their  notable 
discovery  purports  to  be  this  :  That  our  laws  are 
chiefly  contrivances  for  the  benefit  of  the  rich,  to 
the  aggravated  grievance  and  damage  of  the  poor  ; 
that  they  are  the  offspring  of  a  cruel  conspiracy  to 
exalt  the  one,  and  depress  the  other  ;  that  they  are 
the  ministers  of  a  stern  and  jealous  monopoly,  per- 
versely acting  upon  the  maxim,  "  that  whosoever 
hath  to  him  shall  be  given,  and  whosoever  hath  not, 
from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he 
hath." 

But  who  are  the  rich?  Men  sprung  from  the 
mixed  multitude — thrown  up  from  the  indiscriminate 
classes  of  society.  Every  walk  of  life  leads  natu- 
rally on,  or  it  opens  into  innumerable  by-paths, 
which  conduct  to  ease,  or  competence,  or  affluence. 
Industry,  intelligence,  frugality  and  uprightness  are 
ever  sure  of  a  fair  recompense.  Legislation  influ- 
ences wealth — not  wealth,  legislation.  It  is  the 


17 

object  of  the  former  to  aid  the  general  acquisition  of 
property, — not,  of  course,  by  narrowing  and  shutting 
up,  but  digging  open  and  multiplying  its  springs  for 
the  accommodation  of  all.  Such  policy  is  dictated 
by  sound  interest,  conformably  to  the  homely  but 
common-sense  adage,  that  every  man,  to  be  a  good 
citizen,  must  hdve  a  stake  in  the  hedge.  A  needy  and 
starving  population,  on  the  other  hand,  having  no- 
thing to  lose,  would  never  fear  the  consequences  of 
public  turmoils  and  insurrections. 

But  legislation,  be  it  observed,  whilst  seeking  to 
increase  the  means  of  general  wealth,  has  taken 
care  to  provide  that  the  fortunate  possessors,  in 
proportion  to  the  amount  of  their  acquisitions,  shall 
bear  their  part  in  the  public  burdens  of  taxation  for 
the  common  welfare  and  defence.  Laws,  you  may 
say,  protect  the  rich.  We  grant  it;  but  the  secu- 
rity is  just  that  which  they  extend  to  the  private 
possessions  of  all.  So  far,  in  fact,  from  their  oper- 
ating exclusively  to  roll  up  and  concentrate  capital 
in  the  hands  of  a  few,  they  have  done  all  they  can 
to  ensure  its  frequent  change  and  dispersion.  The 
prohibition,  for  example,  of  entails  and  rights  of  pri- 
mogeniture, is  alone  enough  to  preclude  the  possi- 
bility of  long  continued  accumulations  of  fortune  in 
any  family  lines.  All  is  in  a  state  of  ceaseless 
fluctuation.  And  hence,  as  we  often  find,  the  rich 
man  or  the1  flourishing  household  of  to-day,  may  be 
sunk  into  impoverishment  and  obscurity  on  the  mor- 
row ;  and  the  meanest  ^poor,  or  their  children  in 
2* 


18 

another  generation,  may  mount  on  the  swel'ing 
wave  of  prosperity,  to  as  enviable  a  height  of  afflu- 
ence and  distinction,  as  the  proudest  and  most 
favored  of  their  cotemporaries. 

Never  was  there  a  more  senseless  clamor  than 
this  cry  of  partial  legislation ; — never  a  more  pre- 
posterous accusation  than  such  alleged  and  success- 
ful combination  of  the  rich  against  the  poor.  The 
rich  are  confessedly  a  minority,  and  the  more  odieys 
and  overgrown  rich  constitute  a  very  small  minority. 
Under  a  government  whose  fundamental  maxim  is, 
that  the  will  of  the  majority  shall  bear  rule,  and 
where  the  men  who  represent  that  majority  are  ever 
shifting  and  dependent  en  the  popular  suffrage, 
how  absurd  to  suppose  that,  in  action,  so  plain  a 
theoretic  principle  could  be  reversed!  Where,  still 
more,  a  vigilant  public  scrutiny  is  posted  at  every 
avenue  of  place  and  power,  watching  with  keen  and 
lidless  eyes  each  official  act  of  maladministration, — 
what  folly  to  charge  on  a  fractional  part  of  society, 
such  a  controuling  influence  as  shall  outweigh  the 
acknowledged  and  far  mightier  powers  of  numbers ! 
Is  that  influence  won  by  bribery?  What  a  reflec- 
tion on  the  virtue  of  a  people!  Is  it  accomplished 
by  artifice?  What  an  insult  on  their  understand- 
ings! Has  it  been  suffered  to  creep  stealthily,  of 
long  time,  into  our  schemes  of  legislation, — to  twine 
its  parasitical  fibres  and  tendrils  around  the  goodly 
vine  planted  by  our  sage  ancestors,  and  under  whose 
shadow  we  have  tasted  the  sweets  of  peace  and 


19 

jprosperousness?  Oh,  what  a  libel  on  the  patriotism 
t)F  those  appointed  to  watch  and  guard  that  sacred 
stem,  and  to  cherish  the  precious  fruits  which  it  has 
yielded  in  our  common  rights  and  liberties!  The 
man  who  indulges,  on  whatever  ostensible  grounds, 
in  imputations  of  this  sort,  displays  more  of  the  qual- 
ities of  self-conceit  and  consummate  effrontery,  than 
shrewdness  of  intellect  or  integrity  of  heart.  He 
slanders  the  living,  and  he  vilifies  the  dead.  Re- 
spect for  the  one,  and  veneration  for  the  other,  can 
have  no  place  in  his  bosom.  It  is  hazarding  little  to 
say  of  men  of  this  stamp,  that  they  pay  a  poor  com- 
pliment to  the  virtue  and  good  sense  of  the  people 
whom  they  seek  to  cajole.  But — much  or  little — I 
will  venture  to  pronounce  that  the  very  public  whose 
honest  though  sometimes  misguided  prejudices  they 
would  bend  to  their  selfish  purposes,  will  send  back 
an  indignant  voice  to  rebuke  their  hollow  preten- 
sions, and  silence  or  drown  their  worse  than  silly — 
their  atrocious  accusations. 

The  most  conclusive  evidence  of  the  efficacy  of 
our  frame  of  laws,  is  the  gladsome  picture  of  content 
and  prosperousness  spread  abroad  over  the  commu- 
nity:— the  means  of  social  comfort  so  liberally  pro- 
vided and  dispensed ;  the  rapid  accumulation  and 
unmolested  security  of  the  gains  of  honest  toil  and 
enterprise ;  the  many  institutions,  so  blest  and 
blessing  in  their  character  and  influence,  nourished 
into  being  by  the  self-same  spirit  which  produced 
our  combined  system  of  law  and  government ;  the 


20 

multiform  associations  for  the  relief  of  human  need 
and  suffering,  whether  moral  or  physical,  teeming 
on  every  hand;  innumerable  instrumentalities  for 
the  encouragement  of  the  diversified  "  arts  which 
make  for  peace;"  establishments  opened  up  for  the 
dissemination  of  knowledge,  the  promotion  of  sci- 
ence, the  dispersion  of  the  blessings  of  religion ;  our 
seminaries  and  lyceums,  our  schools  and  colleges, 
our  churches  and  temples; — Oh,  these  are  the  living 
witnesses — these  the  clustering  fruits  of  the  wisdom, 
piety  and  patriotism  of  our  fathers,  which  distil  the 
richest  fragrance  on  their  memory,  and  shed  a  grace 
and  glory  over  New  England.  What  though  we 
boast  no  vine-clad,  laughing  shores,  like  the  sunny 
regions  of  poetic  song — some  fairy  "land  of  the  rose 
and  the  myrtle,"  where  nature  wantons  in  exhaust- 
less  fertility,  and  pours  forth  her  ripened  stores 
disdainful  of  the  aid  of  man?  Ours  is  a  soil  which 
kindly  repays  the  toils  of  culture ;  and  human  skill 
and  painstaking  exertion  have  developed  no  niggard 
resources ;  and  beauty  and  luxuriance  have  been 
made  to  deck  our  rugged  hills ;  and  we  have  drawn 
"from  the  abundance  of  the  seas,  and  the  treasures 
hid  in  the  sands."  What  though  we  boast  no  clas- 
sic fields,  no  long-drawn  line  of  storied  generations, 
no  pomp  of  heraldry  nor  race  of  kings?  We  can 
look  back  with  pride  on  an  honored  lineage,  deduced 
from  a  pious  ancestry,  and  ennobled  by  Pilgrim  blood. 
We  can  turn  to  a  history  brief  but  crowded,  bright- 
ened with  deeds  of  lofty  heroism  and  virtues  of  pure 


21 

and  spotless  excellence.  We  can  point  to  a  shining 
roll  of  names,  themselves  the  titles  of  a  deathless 
renown,  which  children's  children  will  revere  and 
blazon,  and 

"  Set  them  down  with  gold  on  lasting  pillars." 

And  if  we  look  abroad  and  take  a  wider  survey, 
if  we  contemplate  the  mighty  field  of  our  Country's 
vigorous  and  successful  enterprise,  we  behold  a  scene 
of  surpassing  magnificence  »nd  grandeur  : — A  peo- 
ple of  yesterday,  sprung  from  a  feeble  handful,  and 
already  grown  to  a  great  multitude — a  nation  of  fif- 
teen millions  ;  the  tide  cf  population  rapidly  sweep- 
ing to  the  farthest  west,  destined  ere  long  to  cover  a 
continent,  its  foremost  wave  even  now  touching  the 
margin  of  the  Pacific ;  the  march  of  improvement 
corresponding  with  this  unparalleled  progression  of 
the  living  mass  ;  the  triumphs  of  genius  and  art 
multiplying  as  by  enchantment  on  every  side  ;  new 
springs  of  wealth  bursting  forth  like  fountains  among 
all  our  valleys  and  hills  ;  commerce  gathering  the 
offerings  of  fairest  and  richest  climes  ;  our  ports 
stretching  out  their  colossal  arms  into  the  deep,  to 
welcome  the  fleets  and  embosom  the  tribute  of  a 
thousand  foreign  shores  ;  our  starry  banner  displayed 
with  honor — alike  under  the  burning  line,  along  the 
11  coral  strand"  of  India,  among  the  glaciers  of  the 
north,  and  the  spicy  isles  of  the  east  ;  our  gallant 
eagle  towering  on  strong  pinion — at  times,  per- 
chance, stooping  its  flight  in  placid  skies, — but  anon 


22 

careering  upon  the  stormy  blast,  or  soaring  to  a 
bolder,  grander  elevation. — Surveying  these  splen- 
did results  of  the  causes  we  have  indicated,  our 
hearts  may  naturally  beat  high,  with  a  throb  of 
patriotic  exultation.  But  the  emotion  is  tinged  with 
a  shade  of  sadness.  We  may  rejoice  indeed — grate- 
fully rejoice.  But  can  we  refrain  from  trembling  ? 
Can  we  forget  that  proportionate  to  our  ascendancy 
in  the  pride  of  privilege  and  advantage,  will  be  the 
depth  of  our  degradation  and  fall,  if  we  prove  false 
to  our  duties  as  citizens — false  to  those  principles 
which  have  borne  us  onward  and  upward  to  our 
present  height  of  national  felicity  and  aggrandize- 
ment ? 

II.  We  are  led  to  consider  some  qualifying  cir- 
cumstances in  our  otherwise  bright  and  enviable 
condition. 

With  all  that  is  exhilerating  in  the  features  of  the 
times,  there  are — it  cannot  be  disguised — signs 
which  are  discouraging.  It  is  r  ith  nations  as  with 
individuals,  that  prosperity,  though  ardently  cov- 
eted, is  often  perverted  into  the  means  of  harm.  It 
is  the  parent  of  vice ;  and  developes,  even  where  it 
does  not  engender,  many  germs  of  mischief.  In  the 
long  festival  of  peace  which  has  smiled  upon  us,  the 
very  sunshine  of  our  fortunes  has  hatched  out  a  per- 
nicious brood  of  evils.  The  political  atmosphere  is 
becoming  charged  with  noxious  miasmata,  which 
threaten  grievous  distempers  to  society.  The  pub- 


lie  mind — ever  craving  of  excitement — in  the  ab- 
sence of  foreign  disturbing  causes,  yields  with  morbid 
appetence  to  others  of  a  domestic  nature.  Party 
animosity  is  rife.  Religious  feuds  are  fanned  to 
exasperation.  Political  controversies  are  waged 
with  increasing  keenness  and  asperity.  Schemes 
of  selfish  and  unprincipled  ambition  are  beginning 
to  be  openly  avowed  and  shamelessly  prosecuted. 
Principles,  specious  in  theory  but  impracticable 
in  operation,  we  see  zealously  propagated  by  heat- 
ed and  misguiding  visionaries ;  a  spirit  of  dark  and 
sullen  discontent  with  the  established  order  of 
things  plotting  measures  at  war  with  our  dearest 
institutions,  and  threatening  if  triumphant  to  up- 
heave their  old  foundations,  to  reduce  government 
to  anarchy  and  society  to  its  original  chaos ;  a  grow- 
ing impatience  in  the  minds  of  others  who  yet  would 
recoil  from  the  latter  extreme,  manifested  neverthe- 
less in  their  ill-disguised  aversion,  and  sometimes 
downright  uncalculating  resistance  to  those  just  and 
salutary  restraints  of  law,  without  which  no  wise  nor 
well  regulated  freedom  could  possibly  exist ;  a 
scornful  indifference  exhibited  during  outbursts  of 
popular  ferment,  (alas,  too  frequent  in  these  times!) 
to  the  dull  delays  of  judicial  redress, — that  fiery 
impetuosity  to  execute  justice,  whereby  justice  her- 
self has  indeed  been  all  but  summarily  executed — cut 
down  by  parricidal  blows  inflicted  by  men  whose 
rights  and  liberties,  in  common  with  all  classes  of 
citizens,  are  alone  safe  when  under  her  tutelary  aegis. 


24 

I  might  speak  of  the  sectional  irritations  and  en* 
mities  so  unhappily  prevalent  of  late — and  these 
busily  fomented  with  the  certain  consequence  of 
widening  schisms  which,  unless  early  healed,  must 
result  in  the  dissolution  of  our  proud  confederacy. 
We  behold  the  South  fiercely  arrayed  against  the 
North,  jealous  not  merely  of  the  commercial  ascen- 
dancy and  enriching  industry  of  the  latter,  but  spe- 
cially so  of  that  most  intrusive  interference  by  a  class 
of  our  citizens — naturally  chargeable  upon  all — in 
certain  domestic  institutions  which  the  South  holds 
to  be  matters  of  its  own  exclusive  concern,  and 
vitally  essential  to  its  well-being  and  its  interests. 
We  behold  the  West,  in  its  lust  of  aggrandizement, 
disdainful  of  the  plainest  principles  of  justice,  and 
eager  to  lay  a  rapacious  hand  on  the  queenly  terri- 
torial domain, — the  common  heritage  of  us  all. 
States  we  have  seen — once  leagued  in  closest  fel- 
lowship, and  which  moved  shoulder  to  shoulder  in 
the  glorious  march  of  the  Revolution — now  alienated 
as  though  baptised  with  "  the  waters  of  strife:" — 
the  Union  openly  assailed; — the  national  compact 
with  the  solemn  pledges  it  enshrines,  denounced  or 
scoffed  at; — an  Ishmaelitish  temper  springing  uo  in 
the  bosoms  of  our  twice-twelve  tribes,  the  hand  of 
each  being  turned  against  a  brother's,  and  brother's 
against  all ; — our  glorious  alliance  of  kindred  states 
fast  verging  to  a  separation,  breaking  into  jarring 
and  discordant  fragments, — their  masses  momenta- 
rily liable  to  be  driven  from  their  ancient  holds 


25 

tossed  to  and  fro  on  the  angry  sea  of  civil  commo- 
tion— jostling  and  crashing  like  hostile  fleets  or  a 
convoy  in  a  storm. 

If  we  look  further,  we  are  presented  with  another 
•catalogue  of  evils.  We  see  luxury,  the  fatal  bane 
of  all  republics,  spreading  its  infection  and  eating  as 
a  gangrene  into  the  vitals  of  the  state  : — Intemper- 
ance, insatiate  monster,  still  rioting  in  the  land,  and 
claiming  new  hecatombs  to  swell  the  mighty  heap 
of  victim  inebriates  already  offered  in  the  horrid 
sacrifice ; — habits  of  extravagance  growing  apace, 
confined  to  no  one  class  of  society — nourished  by 
false  estimates  of  things,  and  exercised  on  objects  of 
fond  and  foolish  desire, — tastes  often  outstripping 
the  means  of  supply,  and  bringing  distress  into  fam- 
ilies, embarrassments  in  business,  and  a  fatal  blight 
on  men's  fortunes  and  worldly  expectations. 

Every  man  is  emulous  to  overtop  his  fellows. 
Every  grade  of  life  down  to  the  poorest  and  hum- 
blest, is  pressing  upon  the  skirts,  and  striving  for  an 
equality — perhaps  to  something  more,  on  the  score 
of  wealth  and  privilege — with  that  next  above. 
Expenditures  are  suited  not  to  the  standard  of  one's 
means,  nor  yet  of  one's  rational  wants, — but  the 
measure  of  other  men's  disbursements.  Difference 
in  the  length  of  purse  by  no  means  produces  always 
a  proportionate  difference  in  the  outgoes.  To  rem- 
edy the  inconveniences  so  surely  to  follow, — even 
where  the  darker  feelings  of  envy  and  sullen  ill-will 
may  not  be  indulged, — a  passion  for  wealth  is  inordi- 
3 


26 

nately  cherished.  A  man  is  in  haste  to  grow  rich. 
He  hears  of  sudden  and  brilliant  acquisitions  of  prop- 
erty, and  covets  like  fortunes  for  himself.  Small 
gains  no  longer  content  him.  Frugality,  or  a  wise 
and  prudent  thrift,  he  unhappily  despises.  He  em- 
barks capital,  pawns  credit,  and  in  a  luckless  hour 
launches  forth  on  the  sea  of  speculation.  All  is 
put  to  hazard.  He  is  afloat  on  a  treacherous  ele- 
ment where  for  one  chance  of  making  a  prosperous 
venture,  he  is  exposed  to  fearful  odds.  High-blown 
in  hope  and  confidence,  he  sports  awhile  "like  wan- 
ton boys  in  summer  seas  ;"  but  soon  the  sky  dark- 
ens— a  tempest  lowers — the  deep  heaves  and  swells 
— the  port  is  far  distant — his  canvass  flutters  to  the 
rising  breeze — he  skims  awhile  along  the  curling 
waves — but  a  fiercer  blast  comes  rushing  on — sud- 
denly it  falls,  and  whelms  his  bark,  his  hopes,  his 
all. 

This  avidity  for  riches,  with  the  hazards  involved 
in  the  desperate  chase,  is  too  sadly  one  of  the  beset- 
ting sins  of  the  times.  In  the  eager  competition, 
men  are  found  to  forsake  the  paths  of  prudence  and 
safety,  to  sacrifice  ease,  comfort  and  social  happi- 
ness, and,  not  seldom,  to  set  at  nought  the  obligations 
of  truth,  honor  and  uprightness.  Our  fathers  were 
wont  to  make  sumptuary  regulations  for  the  repres- 
sion of  a  taste  for  extravagance.  We  plumed  our- 
selves in  advancing  further,  when  we  banished  by 
penal  statutes  many  public  enticements  to  dissipa- 
tion before  tolerated  and  countenanced.  Much  was 


27 

thought  to  be  gained  when  laws  were  passed  for  the 
suppression  of  games  of  chance,  together  with  the 
pestilent  establishments  which  specially  patronized 
them.  Many  an  old  "rookery"  was  broken  up,  and 
many  a  kindred  haunt  of  open  vice  shared  a  similar 
fate.  Something  more  of  good  was  thought  to  be 
effected  when  lotteries  were  interdicted,  and  the 
demoralizing  traffic  was  fordidden  which  they  en- 
couraged and  invited.  Arid  we  rejoiced  in  witness- 
ing these  and  similar  measures  of  legislation  sus- 
tained, as  was  believed,  by  the  force  of  sound  public 
sentiment.  But  have  we  not  reason  to  fear  that  we 
calculated  too  fast?  That  the  evil  was  only — or 
chiefly — driven  in,  not  expelled?  That  the  foul 
humors  have  become,  from  whatever  cause,  more 
widely — if  more  latently — diffused  in  the  great  body 
of  the  community?  Or  rather,  that  having  festered 
awhile  unseen,  they  have  begun  at  last  to  reappear 
and  effloresce  on  the  surface  of  society?  To  what 
else  can  we  ascribe  the  popular  mania  for  bold  and 
rash  speculations, — the  jobbing  and  chaffering,  trade 
and  barter  in  land  stock,  and  fancy  stock,  and  scrip 
of  all  stamps  and  names, — that  spirit  of  reckless 
adventurousness — nay  worse,  of  downright  gambling, 
which  pushes  at  the  most  desperate  contingencies — 
watching  the  turn  of  a  wheel  where  prizes  are  few 
and  blanks  are  many, — peradventure  staking  prop- 
erty, credit,  prospects,  every  thing,  on  the  fling  of  a 
single  die  in  the  game  of  moneyed  speculations? 
Again ;  a  ruffian  spirit  has  broken  forth,  subver- 


28 

sive  of  the  vital  guards  of  all  property.  Men  there 
are,  (as  already  intimated,)  who  would  pull  down 
the  defensive  barriers  of  wealth  and  industry,  and 
drive  the  ploughshare  of  violence  over  the  rubbish 
of  their  fallen  muniments.  And  why?  Not  in  the 
vain  hope  of  keeping,  when  reduced,  all  things  at 
the  same  dead  level ;  not  the  romantic  disinterest- 
edness of  being  themselves — if  as  good — yet  no 
better  than  the  residue;  but  from  motives  wicked 
as  base, — the  love  of  rapine, — a  craving  for  spoil 
and  plunder, — an  inflamed  expectancy  of  making 
their  own  fortunes  amid  the  general  rush  and  scram- 
ble of  the  overturn, — and  vaulting  into  stations  of 
place  and  consequence,  by  outwitting  or  outstripping 
the  less  wary  and  active  of  their  fellows. 

No  man  in  his  senses  can  seriously  believe  that 
all  distinctions  of  privileges  and  possessions  can  be 
melted  down  in  one  promiscuous  mass,  to  continue 
so  under  any  compulsory  state  of  civilized  society. 
The  plan  of  a  community  of  goods  has  been  tried 
over  and  over  again,  and  resulted  in  disastrous  failure. 
If  in  name  or  form,  the  system  has  ever  maintained 
its  ground  beyond  the  hour  of  its  unpromising  birthr 
it  has  only  been  in  some  petty  societies,  the  regula- 
tions of  which  could  not  for  a  moment  exist  among 
the  complicated  relations  of  populous  states.  The 
experiment  was  made,  under  the  best  auspices  of 
which  it  was  susceptible,  in  the  infancy  of  our  own 
Commonwealth.  Lands  in  fee  were  withheld  from 
all  the  original  settlers.  Every  thing  was  then 


29 

common.  The  avails  of  husbandry  and  the  products 
of  the  fisheries  were  thrown  into  a  general  stock, 
from  which  supplies  of  food  and  other  necessaries 
were  again  issued  like  rations  in  a  garrison.  The 
consequence  was,  that  as  the  idle  were  sure  to  be 
fed — if  bread  there  was — from  the  public  storehouse, 
they  were  little  anxious  to  contribute  their  share  of 
toil  and  exertion  to  meet  the  common  exigencies ; 
and  the  industrious  were  overtasked  for  the  purpose 
of  furnishing  the  requisite  sufficiency.  Some  im- 
provement was  made  when,  three  years  after  the 
settlement  at  Plymouth,  acre  lots  were  assigned  to 
colonists  in  usufruct;  and  more,  when  four  years 
later,  these  lots  were  extended  to  sections  of  twenty 
acres.  The  absolute  property  therein  continued  to 
be  some  time  longer  withheld — shut  out  by  rigorous 
interdict;  nor  was  it  till  every  contrivance  was 
resorted  to,  short  of  the  one  inevitable  though  long 
deprecated  issue,  that  the  whole  policy  was  aban- 
daned.*  Real  estate  was  then  created; — full  titles 
to  possessions  were  granted; — lands  distributed  in 
clear  severalty ; — trade  was  thrown  open  to  the  fair 
rivalry  of  all; — and  every  man's  gains  were  guaran- 
teed for  his  sole,  exclusive  behoof  and  disposal. 
And  what  followed?  Spurs  were  at  once  put  to 
enterprise.  Business  no  longer  languished.  Useful 
occupations  multiplied  and  flourished.  The  hum  of 
cheerful  industry  resounded  on  all  sides.  The  tide 

*Sop  Hisioricnl  Memoir  of  Plymouih,  (Vol.  I.  pp.  120,  118,  15H,  ft.  al.)  by  lion. 
Francis  Baylies. 

3* 


30 

of  wealth  began  to  set  into  the  little  colony, — at 
first  fed  by  scanty  rills,  then  swelled  by  ampler 
streams,  till  it  rolled  at  length  its  broad  and  silvery 
current  through  the  smiling  landscape, — transmut- 
ing, like  a  second  Pactolus,  its  very  sands  into  gold. 
Property,  in  short,  there  must  be.  Its  fountains 
must  be  open  to  all ;  but  every  man's  reservoir, 
dependent  as  it  is  for  capaciousness  on  his  personal 
means  and  abilities,  must  be  sealed  against  intruders. 
Where  there  is  property,  there  must  be  confidence ; 
and  confidence  presupposes  and  exacts  a  state  of 
security.  Destroy  these  immunities,  and  you  dis- 
band society.  Rather  might  I  say, — destroy  it 
though  you  would, — reduce  it  to  its  original  atomic 
state,  the  decomposition  cannot  be  permanent.  So 
long  as  man  continues  man  and  associates  with  his 
fellow  man,  and  human  skill  and  powers,  tempers, 
tastes  and  opportunities  remain,  as  they  ever  will 
remain,  endlessly  diverse, — new  artificial  combina- 
tions and  orderly  arrangements  and  protective  meth- 
ods of  checks  and  encouragements,  will  inevitably 
ensue.  You  may  break  down,  but  you  cannot  keep 
down.  You  may  pluck  up,  root  and  branch,  the 
existing  establishments  of  a  civilized  age  or  peo- 
ple. You  may  furrow  afresh  the  field  of  society. 
You  may  trundle  your  rolling  stones  across  its 
smooth  and  even  surface ;  but  you  cannot  preserve 
such  unnatural  level.  Other  forms  of  social  lite — 
forms  of  order,  and  beauty,  and  freshness — will 
spring  up  from  the  clearing.  They  will  be  found 
vegetating  again  in  mixed  and  harmonious  assem- 


31 

blage,  and  mounting  in  regular  gradation  from  the 
hyssop  on  the  wall  to  the  tall  and  stately  cedar  of 
Lebanon. 

III.  I  go  on  to  remark  upon  the  duties  imposed  by 
the  juncture.— Dark  as  the  portents  may  be,  there 
is  nothing  to  warrant  despondence.  In  darker 
hours,  our  fathers  sought  and  obtained  deliverance. 
We  are  not  to  to  fold  our  arms  in  supineness,  nor 
look  quietly  on,  and  fruitlessly  bewail  evils  suscepti- 
ble of  relief  or  cure.  If  we  bestir  ourselves?  an 
Almighty  Protector  will  vouchsafe  His  aid.  The 
Lord's  arm  is  not  slackened  that  it  cannot  save ;  nor 
His  ear  heavy  that  He  cannot  hear.  He  who  "sift- 
ed a  kingdom  for  the  wheat"  sown  in  our  wilderness, 
will,  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  His  servants,  still 
bless  the  springing  and  the  increase.  He  who 
raised  up  a  people  upon  these  shores  by  a  train  of 
such  brilliant  providences,  from  "a  little  one  to  a 
thousand,  and  from  a  small  one  to  a  strong  nation," 
will  not  suffer  His  gracious  purposes  to  be  frustrated. 
Bright  tokens  of  hope  and  promise  are  flung  out  to 
our  gaze.  And  the  gloomiest  signs  which  chequer 
the  prospect,  will  prove,  we  will  hope,  but  as  the 
clouds  to  usher  in  the  more  triumphant  coming  of 
the  Son  of  Man — the  Prince  of  Peace  and  of  Right- 
eousness. 

That  the  institutions  under  which,  in  the  main, 
we  have  so  pre-eminently  prospered,  should  be 
carefully  cherished,  is  what  every  good  citizen  must 
admit.  The  prominent  evils  of  our  times  proceed 


32 

in  a  great  measure  from  the  teeming  blessings  con- 
veyed by  the  privileges  of  our  lot — engendering  by 
abuse,  a  species  of  plethory  in  the  heart  of  the 
nation.  What  the  prophet  recorded  of  Jerusalem, — 
"  Behold,  this  was  thine  iniquity — pride,  fullness  of 
bread,  and  abundance  of  idleness;  and  thou  hast 
multiplied  thine  abominations" — is,  alas,  too  appli- 
cable to  ourselves.  Our  table  has  become  to  us  a 
snare;  and  from  the  cup  of  prosperity  we  have 
drunk  unto  surfeit. 

Perversions,  nevertheless,  of  the  wisest  institu- 
tions only  illustrate  the  weakness  or  viciousness  of 
human  nature.  They  do  not  make  against  the  value 
and  importance  of  the  institutions  themselves,  any 
more  than  the  common  abuses  of  the  gifts  and  boun- 
ties of  Heaven  prove  the  latter  to  be  intrinsically 
bad  and  worthless.  Whatever  is  good,  placed  with- 
in our  reach,  should  be  gratefully  and  rationally 
applied  to  its  true  and  proper  uses.  And  our  bless- 
ings we  should  conscientiously  hold  and  exercise,  as 
faithful  and  wise  stewards. 

Our  duties  as  citizens  embrace  a  double  class  of 
responsibilities.  Partly  they  pertain  to  our  public 
functionaries;  and  partly  they  respect  the  great 
body  of  the  people.  Rulers  may  be  eminently 
instrumental,  by  measures  of  sound  legislation,  in 
contributing  to  the  support  and  usefulness  of  the 
institutions  of  which  they  are  the  special  guardians. 
By  prudent  enactments,  timely  and  dispassionately 
framed  to  meet  emergencies,  to  strengthen  old  and 


33 

salutary  regulations,  to  check  the  facilities  of  dex- 
terous legal  evasions,  to  expunge  what  is  obsolete, 
explain  what  is  doubtful,  soften  what  is  harsh,  and 
liberalize  what  is  narrow, — by  these  and  similar 
provisions,  they  may  become  the  ministers  of  God 
for  great  good  to  a  people.  Laws,  whether  civil 
statutes  or  penal  ordinances — conceived  in  a  spirit 
of  justice  and  moderation — should  be  resolutely  and 
promptly  executed.  Indulged  impunity  is  a  bribe 
to  transgression ;  and  excessive  lenity  is  a  wrong  to 
the  public.  The  laws  of  Draco,  which  were  so 
severe  that  they  were  said  to  be  written  in  blood, — 
adjudging  the  sternest  punishments  to  even  trivial 
offences — defeated  their  own  aims.  Instead  of  ter- 
rifying from  all  crime  and  misdemeanor,  they  broke 
down  in  the  public  mind  the  distinctions  between 
right  and  wrong.  Offences,  the  gravest  as  well  as 
the  lightest,  vere  committed  in  open  defiance  of  so 
arbitrary  a  code.  Penalties  could  not  be  exacted ; 
and  the  whole  system  sunk  into  early  abandonment 
and  scorn.  Our  legislation  is  planned  on  a  different 
policy, — tempering  rigor  with  mercy,  and  aiming  to 
reduce  extreme  punishments,  to  the  minimum  stan- 
dard consistent  with  general  safety.  Duty  therefore 
demands  that  retribution  should  follow  swift  on  the 
steps  of  crime ;  that  every  penal  act  on  our  statute- 
book  be  inflexibly  enforced,  or  forthwith  be  blotted 
from  the  page  which  it  stains  as  a  dead  letter ;  that 
instead  of  connivances  at  flagrant  violations  of  legal 
enactments,  every  serious  breach  of  them  be  punished, 


34 

and  every  insult  to  their  authority  be  indignantly 
frowned  down;  and  the  prerogatives  of  the  civil 
power,  the  reign  of  order  and  the  majesty  of  law  be 
maintained  inviolate. 

Vigilance  in  the  performance  of  these  duties  is 
doubly  requisite  at  a  crisis  like  the  present,  when  the 
elements  of  society  are  so  liable  to  disturbance;  and 
when  those  two  antagonist  forces,  namely,  authority 
and  subjection, — existing  with  more  or  less  intensity 
under  every  form  of  government, — are  being  brought 
into  such  frequent  and  serious  collision.  But  with 
institutions  like  ours,  if  all  good  citizens  and  sound 
patriots,  whether  holding  official  or  mere  private 
relations,  will  do  their  duty  and  use  the  necessary 
precautions, — if  our  sentries  on  the  watch  towers, 
or  the  warders  which  man  our  ramparts,  will  sound 
the  timely  alarums,  and  stand  to  their  posts,  and 
cover  their  defences, — the  citadel  will  be  safe.  No 
weapon  turned  against  it  shall  prosper.  God  will 
fight  for  us.  For,  government  is  from  Him ;  though 
forms  of  government  be  of  men.  As  it  is  written : 
"  Whosoever  resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the  ordi- 
nances of  God;  and  they  that  resist  shall  receive 
condemnation.''  If  we  therefore  be  not  wanting  to 
ourselves, — with  God  for  our  helper, — success  in 
the  struggle  is  certain ;  as,  contrarily,  disaster  and 
defeat  must  rest  upon  a  cause  where  the  demon 
spirit  of  anarchy  is  suffered  to  carry  the  standard. 

It  is  not  irrelevant  to  remark  in  passing,  on  the 
aptitude  of  extremes  to  approximate  and  interchange, 


35 

although  separated,  to  all  appearance,  wide  as  the 
poles  asunder.  Under  despotisms,  the  spirit  of 
insubordination  is  kept  down  by  the  sternness  of 
governmental  regulations  acting  as  a  ponderous, 
mechanical  weight  pressing  from  above.  Under 
republics,  through  the  absence  of  unnecessary  and 
vexatious  restraints,  it  has  fewer  temptations  and 
appliances  for  action ;  and  it  exists  in  comparative 
inertness,  only  requiring  in  general  a  prudent  and 
steady  watching.  In  the  former,  whenever  the  elas- 
tic force  succeeds  by  a  convulsive  effort  to  extricate 
itself,  it  shakes  down  the  pillars  of  a  monarchy, — 
perhaps  burying  its  every  vestige  in  one  wide  and 
yawning  gulf  of  ruin ;  and  from  out  of  new  materials 
an  emancipated  people  set  to  work,  to  construct 
other  and  more  liberal  institutions  adapted  to  the 
forms  of  a  free  commonwealth.  In  the  latter  case, 
if  by  some  fatal  catastrophe  caused  by  insurrection- 
ary violences,  the  frame  of  a  government  be  dislo- 
cated, the  short  and  turbulent  reign  of  mad  licen- 
tiousness is  almost  sure  to  be  succeeded  by  an  iron 
tyranny.  Some  master-spirit  speedily  arises  to 
combine  anew  the  scattered  powers  of  sovereignty, 
and  to  reduce  and  shape  them  into  an  engine  of 
most  galling  oppression.  Social  relations,  in  the 
two  cases,  are  reversed.  In  the  first  instance,  a 
nation  of  slaves  is  transformed  into  a  nation  of  free- 
men ; — in  the  second,  a  commonwealth  of  freemen 
is  degraded  to  the  condition  of  slaves. 

The  example  of  Revolutionary  France  offers  an 


36 

illustration  sufficiently  in  point.     There,  a  despoti- 
cal  monarchy,  on  the  first  overturn,  was  exchanged 
for  a  republic, — short  lived  indeed  because  of  the 
intoxication  which  liberty  inspired,  acting  on  the 
passions  of  an  ignorant  and   brutalized   populace. 
The  blessings  of  freedom  they  knew  not   how  to 
apply  to  their  legitimate  uses  ;  and  when  the  few 
frail  breastworks  hastily  run  up  for  their  protection 
during  the  earliest  storm  of  the  Revolution,  were 
swept  away  by  the  hurricanes  which  followed,  the 
people   sunk  under  a  more  absolute  tyranny, — led 
captive,  nay  chained  to  the  conquering  car  of  one 
of  the   haughtiest    oppressors   that   ever   trampled 
on   the  freedom  and  happiness   of  man. — Liberty, 
I    have    said,    they    were    incapable   of   enjoying. 
They  were  ignorant,  and  could  not  appreciate  it. 
They  were  profligate,  and  lost  it.     And  this  sug- 
gests another  reflection  bearing  upon  our  duties. 

Laws  are  of  no  permanent  avail,  without  the 
sanction  of  public  sentiment.  The  main  reliance  is 
Opinion  ;  and  this,  to  be  effectual,  must  be  informed 
and  enlightened.  As  ignorance  is  necessary  to  the 
stability  of  despotisms,  general  knowledge  is  essen- 
tial to  the  security  of  republics.*  A  discerning 
people,  from  the  instinct  of  interest,  will  be  naturally 
led  to  uphold  institutions  whose  practical  advantages 
they  are  made  capable  of  estimating. 

*  The  late  crowned  head  of  the  Holy  Alliance,  Francis  I.  of  Austria,  had  sagac- 
ity enough  10  understand  this;  when  to  the  Faculty  of  the  College  of  Layback,  on 
their  presentation  to  his  majesty,  he  had  the  imperial  effrontery  to  say — "  Gentle- 
men, I  want  not  learned  men,  but  only  loyal  and  good  subjects." 


37 

But  knowledge,  to  produce  this  end,  must  not  be 
-confined  to  a  small  circle  of  select  and  gifted  minds, 
constituting  a  privileged  order,  or  caste,  in  society. 
With  such  restriction,  under  the  most  liberal  forms 
of  government,  it  would  only  serve  to  embellish 
without  strengthening  the  columns  of  a  state.  There 
were  wise  minds,  and  sound  minds,  and  intelligent 
minds,  in  France  at  the  memorable  outburst  of  its 
first  Revolution ;  but  they  formed  a  club  by  them- 
selves— holding  the  keys  of  the  temple  of  science — 
chary  of  its  golden  stores  unto  others — and  specially 
jealous  of  admitting  the  people  to  a  share  in  their 
monopoly.  The  consequence  was.,  that  in  the  gen- 
eral confusion  which  ensued,  on  their  attempting  to 
manage  and  guide  the  undisciplined  masses  of  society, 
their  wisdom  profited  not  for  want  of  a  correlative 
judgment — that  instructed  reason  In  the  public  mind 
— whereby  alone  the  people  could  be  brought  to 
co-operate  in  their  schemes  of  political  and  national 
regeneration. — Will  you  say  that  Knowledge  is 
Power,  and  that  like  many  of  the  blind  forces  of  art 
or  of  nature,  it  is  capable  of  being  determined  to 
objects  either  of  good  or  evil?  We  grant  it.  But 
the  fact  only  goes  to  prove,  that  for  the  purpose  of 
preventing  and  neutralizing  the  possible  misapplica- 
tion of  knowledge  when  confined  to  a  few,  the  safest 
course  assuredly  is  to  extend  the  gift  unto  all.  Just 
as  a  standing  army  would  be  dangerous  to  the 
liberties  of  a  people.  But  put  weapons  into  the 
hands  of  all,  and  you  make  every  man  at  once  a 
4 


38 

national  guardsman.  A  people  thus  collectively 
armed,  sjpposing  them  to  be  endued  with  an  ordi- 
nary share  of  intelligence,  whilst  they  are  prepared 
to  resist  the  encroachments  of  arbitrary  power,  are 
enlisted  to  protect  a  government  to  the  last  extrem- 
ity, so  long  as  it  shall  restrict  itself  to  its  legitimate 
sphere  and  functions. 

But  there  are  other  evils  to  be  guarded  against. 
As  knowledge,  we  have  admitted,  may  prove  injuri- 
ous where  unequally  apportioned,  it  may  become 
such  when  unsound,  or  baneful,  or  defective.  The 
learning  of  the  dark  and  scholastic  ages  was  little 
better  than  chaff,  which  might  cram  the  intellect 
without  ever  nourishing  a  strong  and  healthy  growth. 
The  philosophy  of  the  school  of  Frederick*  and 
Voltaire,  may  be  compared  to  a  honey-cake  mixed 
with  ratsbane.  And  in  our  times,  what  is  called 
popular  knowledge  is  restricted  too  much  to  bare 
rudiments. — A  man  may  be  able  to  read,  write  and 

*  I  call  it  the  school  of  Frederick,  for  he — the  first  of  ihe  name,  miscalled  the 
Great — affected  as  is  well  known,  the  character  of  a  philosopher  as  well  as  patron 
of  the  eminent  philosophers,  (i.  e.  the  famous  infidel  writers  ;ind  geniuses)  of  his 
own  times.  No  man  contributed  so  much  as  that  monarch  to  the  dissemination  of 
those  pestilent  principles  which,  sown  throughout  France  and  Europe,  shot  up  in 
the  succeeding  generation,  like  the  dragon's  teeth,  into  a  harvest  of  armed  war- 
riors, reared,  il  would  seem,  expressly  to  lake  vengeance  on  his  line,  and  shiver  at 
a  blow  the  colossal  military  power  which  he  had  been  at  such  consnminate  pains  to 
establish.  A  writer  in  a  lale  number  of  the  Foreign  Quarterly  Review  has  an 
admirable  reflection  on  this  point,  which  I  shall  make  no  apology  for  transcribing. 
Alluding  to  the  fatal  battle  of  Jena,  he  says — "  If  on  that  day  the  shade  of  Fred- 
erick the  Great  had  risen  from  the  dead,  he  would  have  feh  in  the  blighted  glories 
of  the  House  of  Brandenburgh,  ihe  solemn  and  gory  retribution  of  the  infidelity 
which  he  had  taught  to  France,  and  the  love  of  conquest  with  which  so  long  he  had 
afflicted  Europe. — In  fourteen  days  from  Napoleon's  crossing  the  Rhine,  he  was 
tilling  victor  in  ihe  palace  of  Frederick." 


39 

cypher,  and  not  be  intelligent.  That  depends  on 
the  use  he  makes  of  the  elementary  helps  of  know- 
ledge he  has  obtained,  and  the  absolute  acquisitions 
which  by  their  means  he  may  amass.  A  taste  for 
these  should  be  actively  encouraged.  Every  aid  to 
improvement,  by  stimulating  a  thirst  for  knowledge, 
enkindling  manly  thought,  promoting  liberal  investi- 
gations, gratifying  a  love  of  science, — in  short,  aught 
that  may  contribute  to  elevate  and  dignify  the  intel- 
lectual nature,  should  be  an  object  of  solicitude  to  a 
patriot's  heart.  The  private  citizen  who  lends  his 
influence  towards  these  ends, — whether  by  the  es 
tablishment  of  village  Lyceums,  enlarging  through 
the  press  the  stock  of  popular  literature,  or  familiar- 
izing science  by  means  of  oral  instruction  in  the 
form  of  public  lectures  or  addresses — is  a  benefactor 
to  society.  Rulers,  by  giving  both  an  official  and 
personal  patronage  to  helping  on  the  same  great 
objects,  are  entitled  to  a  double  measure  of  gratitude 
and  praise. 

But  virtue,  you  may  remind  me,  should  be  the  at- 
tendant on  knowledge. — Unquestionably.  They  are 
the  twin  handmaids  to  lead  on  the  march  of  social  im- 
provement. They  are  bound  by  a  common  ligament 
—closely  and  vitally  bound,  as  was  that  famous  pair 
of  another  species  once  brought  co  us  from  Siam. 
Their  aims  and  interests  strictly  are  identified ;  nor 
can  they,  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  be  with  any 
prudence  or  safety  dissevered.  I  might  go  a  step  fur- 
ther, and  say,  that  knowledge  of  the  right  stamp  is 


40 

virtue; — knowledge,  do  I  mean,  discharged  of  all 
impurities, — knowledge  clarified  from  the  foul  admix- 
tures of  error  and  falsehood,  and  sublimed  and  recti- 
fied in  the  crucible  of  Truth ; — this,  I  repeat,  is  virtue. 
A  mind  thoroughly  wise  has  its  moral  sense  quickened, 
and  it  sees  the  propitious  tendencies  and  inherent 
excellence  of  the  law  of  right.  It  perceives  that  as 
every  vice  is  a  struggle  against  nature,  so  true  virtue 
is  most  eminently  auspicious  to  the  good  of  man,  and 
the  elevation  and  happiness  of  the  species.  As 
transgression  is  the  parent  of  shame  and  sorrow^  so 
obedience  to  the  moral  commands  of  the  Creator  is 
the  alone  absolute  security  of  the  welfare  of  individ- 
uals, and  the  cement  of  society.  A  community  of 
minds  thoroughly  enlightened,  could  not  fail  to  be 
virtuous.  Hence  it  is  that  in  Scripture,  Piety  is  oft 
termed  "  Wisdom."  Hence  also  the  saying  of  the 
prophet, — "Wisdom  and  knowledge  shall  be  the 
stability  of  thy  times."  And  again, — "Righteous- 
ness," (which  by  the  analogy  of  interpretation,  is 
but  the  converse  term  of  the  former,)  "  Righteousness 
exalteth  a  nation ;  and  sin  is  the  reproach n — aye 
worse — the  ruin  "of  any  people."  That  we  have 
not  more  virtue  in  the  land,  is  for  the  reason  that 
we  have  .not  more  of  sound  intelligence — more  of 
that  keen-eyed  perspicacity  which  takes  into  sober 
view  the  ordained  relations  and  consequences  of 
things,  which  follows  out  the  indissoluble  chain  of 
consequences  between  moral  effects  and  their  causes, 
and  which  convincingly  sees  that — sure  as  the  law 


41 

of  gravity — virtue  steadfastly  maintained,  must  ulti- 
mately result  in  good,  error  in  harm,  and  vice  in 
wretchedness. 

The  business  of  elucidating  these  great  principles 
is  too  narrowly  parcelled  out  to  different  classes 
of  teachers ;  and  the  harmonious  connexions  and 
dependencies  subsisting  among  the  hws  and  insti- 
tutes of  God  in  the  natural  and  moral  worlds,  are 
not  sufficiently  brought  into  view  to  be  duly  heeded 
or  apprehended.  Truth  is  of  God.  It  proceeds 
from,  depends  on,  and  leads  back  to  Him,  as  its 
source.  In  all  its  varieties  and  modifications,  it 
maintains  therefore  an  agreement  and  perfect  self- 
consistency.  One  truth  is  compatible  with  all  other 
truth ;  human  science  with  divine  philosophy ;  the 
demonstrations  of  reason  with  the  revelations  of 
God.  But  one  class  of  men  employs  itself  in  some 
exclusive  branch  of  science.  Another  selects  a  dif- 
ferent department;  and  investigation  proceeds  in 
separate  paths, — hedged  in  by  strong  and  artificial 
barriers, — as  though  there  existed  no  natural  affini- 
ties in  their  objects,  and  no  point  of  convergence  for 
their  common  terminus.  Here,  a  philosopher  takes 
the  chair  of  natural  science,  and  discourses  learn- 
edly on  the  properties,  laws  and  phenomena  of 
matter.  There,  a  professor  of  political  economy 
ingeniously  lectures  on  the  duties  of  legislation,  and 
descants  on  the  various  expedients  it  should  employ 
for  increasing  the  stock  of  national  wealth  or  melior- 
ating the  condition  of  man  in  society.  The  geome- 
4* 


42 

trician  devotes  himself  engrossingly  to  his  mathe- 
matical calculations,  his  problems  and  his  diagrams. 
The  metaphysician  chooses  a  track  of  his  own,  and 
wanders  away, — haply  to  be  lost — in  a  maze  of  fanci- 
ful disquisition.  Whilst  the  preacher  employs  him- 
self on  themes  of  doctrinal  theology, — very  possibly 
in  exalting  religion  to  the  disparagement  of  morality, 
and  vilifying  reason  in  his  anxiety  to  magnify  revela- 
tion.— But  why  should  these  things  be?  Why  should 
that  which  God  hath  joined  together,  be  so  per- 
versely and  unnaturally  sundered?  Why  should  the 
fields  of  science,  human  and  divine,  be  so  carefully 
cantoned  out  into  narrow  and  separate  enclosures; 
and  their  lines  of  demarkation  be  so  jealously  kept 
up  and  defended?  May  not  the  naturalist  be  the 
devout  and  sober  theist ;  and  in  beholding  the  beauty,, 
order  and  consummate  wisdom  of  the  material  crea- 
tion, extend  his  widened  vision,  and  "  look  through 
nature  up  to  nature's  God?"  Should  the  politician, 
shut  out  all  thought  of  God  and  providence,  of  the 
sanctions  of  religion  and  eternity  in  his  plans  for 
the  public  good ;  and  content  himself  with  pru- 
dential contrivances — studying  a  nicely-poised  sys- 
tem of  economic  arrangements — as  though  he  could 
by  any  art  or  craft  solely  of  his  own,  provide  against 
the  possibility  of  national  reverses,  or  resolve  in  the 
apparatus  of  government  the  long  sought  for  problem 
of  a  perpetual  motion  ?  Shall  theology  remain 
intrenched  in  her  ancient  state  and  mystery,  and  not 
rather  come  down  to  accommodate  herself  more 


43 

practically  to  the  moral  wants  and  interests  of  man- 
kind? And  when  mixing  in  the  walks  of  life,  shall 
she  appear  in  the  character  of  a  jealous  spy,  instead 
of  a  kindly  companion, — a  sage,  yet  welcome,  mon- 
itress  and  friend, — designed  to  regulate  with  grace 
and  wisdom  all  the  affairs  of  men — presiding  to  equal 
advantage  in  the  councils  of  nations,  the  diversified 
transactions  and  employments  of  social  intercourse, 
and  the  more  sequestered  scenes  and  duties  of  pri- 
vate life?  Claiming  the  prerogative  of  infallibility 
in  questions  of  abstract  faith  and  doctrine,  shall  she 
also  look  coldly  and  suspiciously  on  the  honest 
researches  of  human  genius  in  the  realms  of  creation 
and  providence, — as  though  that  "elder  scripture," 
the  Book  of  Nature,  were  not  worthy  of  consultation, 
or  if  read  at  all,  must  only  be  interpreted  with  the 
forced  glosses  of  some  of  her  many  narrow  and 
hampering  schemes  of  divinity? 

Whatever  the  cause  may  be,  the  fact  seems  cer- 
tain, that  whilst  religion  such  as  she  came  down 
from  God  out  of  heaven, — "pure  and  undefiled," — 
is  worthy  of  the  love,  the  admiration  and  homage  of 
all  intelligent  natures,  she  is  denied  that  controuling 
influence  in  human  interests  and  pursuits  so  reason- 
ably her  due.  She  is  divorced  from  science — little 
relished  by  the  sons  of  taste  and  genius — passed 
uncared  for  by  the  men  of  the  world — and  dethroned 
from  the  seats  of  her  rightful  occupancy  in  the  sta- 
tions of  business,  the  haunts  of  social  life,  the  cham- 
bers of  senates  and  the  cabinets  of  rulers.  Men  ply 


44 

their  profound  researches  and  observations  in  the 
various  departments  of  the  kingdom  of  nature ;  but 
alas,  not  to  feel  after  God  and  find  Him  out,  though 
He  be  not  far  from  every  one  of  us.  They  plan 
and  toil ;  but  with  an  absorbing  interest  in  things 
seen  and  temporal,  and  scarce  the  shadow  of  a  sol- 
emn realization  of  the  certainty  and  awfulness  of 
the  dread  futurity  before  them.  They  govern,  de- 
vise and  legislate;  but  how  rarely  in  thoughtful 
dependence — how  seldom  with  a  fixed  and  rooted 
faith  on  the  sovereign  disposals  of  an  unseen  yet  all- 
eyed  God, — HIM  who  holding  in  His  hands  the 
forces  of  the  universe,  can  instantly  execute  every 
purpose  of  mercy  or  of  wrath ;  who  has  made 
known  those  laws  of  His  moral  government  whose 
sanctions  are  eternal,  and  from  whose  dominion 
there  is  no  escaping, — laws  established  on  principles 
broad  as  the  empire  of  intelligent  being,  deep  as  the 
foundations  of  His  immortal  throne.  And  shall  we 
disown  their  authority?  Oh,  let  us  submit — rever- 
ently submit — to  all  God's  immutable  statutes.  Let 
us  yield  our  implicit  obedience  to  the  everlasting 
rules  of  truth  and  righteousness  ordained  for  men 
on  earth  and  angels  in  heaven.  And  in  all  our  get- 
tings,  let  us  get  divine  wisdom.  In  all  our  schem- 
ings,  let  us  scheme  as  creatures  of  God  and  heirs  of 
eternity.  In  all  our  conditions — ruling  or  ruled — 
let  us  walk  in  the  fear  and  seek  the  blessing  of  One, 
who  alone  can  "  speak  concerning  a  nation  to  build 
and  to  plant,"  or  "to  pluck  up,  pull  down  and  de- 
stroy it." 


45 

IV.  It  remains  that  I  remark  on  some  special 
means  and  motives  for  arresting  existing  dangers, 
and  perpetuating  the  blessings  we  possess. 

The  effective  safeguards  of  our  public  institutions 
have  been  shown  to  be  the  virtue  and  intelligence  of 
the  people.  Legislation,  whatever  else  it  may  en- 
courage, should  steadily  aim  to  strengthen  these 
bulwarks  of  national  security.  The  mental  and 
moral  culture  of  the  people  must  be  a  primary 
object  of  solicitude;  and  whatever  promotes  this, 
will  invigorate  all  the  other  operations  of  good  gov- 
ernment. Although  the  remark  might  more  prop- 
erly have  fallen  under  the  preceding  head  of  the 
discourse,  still  it  may  be  indulged  here,  that  it  is  the 
amount  of  public  virtue — little  or  much — diffused  in 
our  land  which,  under  God,  has  hitherto  been  the 
support  of  our  civil  and  political  institutions.  Occa- 
sionally, a  dangerous  incendiary  has  arisen  among 
ourselves,  and  many  have  been  the  turbulent  and 
fiery  spirits  cast  upon  our  shores  by  the  revolu- 
tionary storms  of  the  old  world,  who  have  threatened 
the  public  safety  and  tranquility ;  but  thus  far,  we 
have  escaped  all  serious  detriment.  The  fiercest 
anarch  of  mischief  from  the  infidel  schools,  or  the 
disastrous  battle  fields  of  Europe,  that  has  come 
among  us,  has  been  here  tamed  and  reduced  to 
reason  and  order — at  least,  to  comparative  impo- 
tence. And  even  the  mighty  undulations  which 
have  swept  abroad  over  the  face  of  society,  and 
swallowed  the  proudest  wrecks  of  empire  in  their 


46 

bosom,  have  rolled  with  harmless  swell  around  the 
pillars  of  our  Republic,  and  left  the  fabric  in  its 
original  strength  and  steadfastness.  And  whence 
this  security?  We  say  again,  that  the  main  efficient 
cause  must  be  sought  in  the  aggregate  virtue  and 
intelligence  of  the  people.  This  has  proved  the 
grandly  simple  preservative  of  our  rights  and  liber- 
ties, our  laws  and  union,  our  confederated  govern- 
ments, state  and  national.  Eulogize  as  you  may  all 
other  political  guards, — extol,  nay  reverence,  though 
you  should,  the  Constitution  as  a  miracle  of  human 
wisdom,  still  every  thing  else  is  of  secondary  influ- 
ence. The  civil  edifice  has  rested — it  must  continue 
to  rest — on  the  one  basis  already  indicated.  Weak- 
en it,  and  the  building  totters.  Dislodge  it,  and 
the  superstructure  will  tumble  into  ruin. 

The  question  recurs  as  to  the  nature  of  the  pro- 
tecting means.  Education,  in  one  word,  compre- 
hends the  whole  ; — education  directed  to  the  facul- 
ties of  the  head  and  heart,  the  mind  and  soul  of 
man.  He  was  a  wise  statesman  who  said,*  ere  the 
opinion  had  been  so  completely  verified  by  observa- 
tion, That  popular  instruction  is  "the  cheap  defence 
of  nations."  Our  infant,  day  and  sabbath  schools— 
our  seminaries  of  general  literature — our  halls  of 
science — our  institutions  of  learning  and  religion,  are 
the  main  props  of  the  nation's  hope.  In  the  re- 
stricted sense  of  the  term,  which  confines  education 
to  a  developement  of  the  powers  of  mind,  legislative 

*  Edmund  Burke. 


47 

aid,  judicially  administered,  may  be  advantageously 
applied.  Endowments  for  the  erection  of  useful 
seminaries,  or  appropriations  to  enlarge  the  sphere 
of  their  operations,  will  be  prompted  by  a  wise  fore- 
cast towards  the  public  interest. 

Knowledge  should  be  popularized.  Channels, 
accordingly,  for  its  distribution  should  be  opened  up 
to  every  man's  door.  It  should  be  made  to  nourish 
the  germ  of  infant  thought ;  to  invigorate  the  ex- 
panding powers  of  childhood  and  of  youth ;  and  to 
satisfy  the  wants  and  cravings  of  more  advanced 
and  ripened  minds.  The  aim  should  be  to  pre- 
occupy the  thinking  and  intellectual  faculties ;  to 
divert  them  from  low  and  grovelling  pursuits  ;  to 
set  the  bent  of  the  attachments  on  objects  deserving 
of  a  generous  ambition ;  and  to  give  scope  to  the 
active  energies  of  our  nature  by  multiplying  the 
sources  and  dispensing  the  pleasures  of  enriching, 
mental  cultivation. — But  knowledge,  to  be  popular- 
ized, must  first  be  cheapened,  and  secondly  be  sim- 
plified. 

First,  it  must  be  cheapened.  Precious  as  it  is, 
we  would  have  it  abundant — ^plentiful  as  gold  in  the 
days  of  Solomon,  when  "  silver  was  nothing  ac- 
counted of."  Every  dollar  expended  for  this  pur- 
pose from  the  public  coffers,  is  of  the  nature  of  an 
insurance  premium  to  guard  against  heavier  liabili- 
ties that  would  'else  arise  from  some  other  quarter. 
The  more  liberal  the  outlay  here,  the  less  shall  we 
have  to  discount  for  the  public  needs,  in  order  to  the 


48 

repression  of  vice  and  crime,  and  the  long  catalogue 
of  social  disorders  incident  to  an  uninstructed  state 
of  society.     Good  policy  suggests  that  like  readiness 
of  liberality  should  prevail  in   towns,  villages  and 
districts.      There  is  a  frugality  often  practised  in 
these  matters,  which  defeats  its  own  ends, — a  parsi- 
mony, which  like  some  other  devices,  is   "taken  in 
its  own  craftiness."     To  save  a  few  scores  or  hun- 
dreds of  dollars  on  the  charge  of  municipal  or  local 
schools,  is  deemed  by  some  a  great  stroke  of  pru- 
dent calculation.     But  so  long  as  the  observation 
holds  good,  that  ignorance  is  the  parent  of  pauperism 
and  crime,  and  that  individual  and  general  intelli- 
gence, by  sharpening  the  mental  powers,   augments 
the  productive  resources  of  a  people, — the  economy 
alluded  to  can  have  little   to  recommend  it  on  the 
score  of  sound  wisdom.     A  single  energetic  mind, 
awakened  to  a  consciousness  of  its  young  powers, 
and  mounting  by  the  process  of  elementary  tuition 
in  a  village  school-house,  the  first  rude  steps  of  the 
Temple  of  Knowledge,  may  go  forth  not  only  to 
personal  fame  and  eminence,  but  to  repay,  through 
the  triumphs  of  inventive  genius,  in  an  hundred  fold, 
the  slender   yet   priceless   boon  of  early,  juvenile 
instruction.     Many  a  "village  Hampden  "  has  sprung 
forward  from  no  higher  a  starting-post  on  the  race  of 
glorious  ambition.     The  genius  of  Rumford  was  in- 
debted for  its  first  bright  buddings  to  the  forcing 
atmosphere — such  as  it  was — of  an  humble  country 
school-room.     And  the  imperial  mind  of  Franklin 


49 

opened  to  the  earliest  inspirations  of  truth  and 
wisdom  within  the  walls  of  one  of  those  public  little 
seminaries — still  the  objects  of  the  Civic  pride — as 
anciently  of  the  provident  care  and  nurture  of  the 
good  old  Town  of  Boston. 

Education  in  its  practical  effects,  has  been  com- 
pared by  some  one,  to  the  artificial  process  of 
washing  for  diamonds.  If  the  analogy  be  not 
thought  too  fanciful,  I  would  say  then,  Let  the 
operation  of  sifting  and  searching  be  keen  and  thor- 
ough. Let  every  handful  of  the  intellectual  soil  be 
subjected  to  rigid  scrutiny  and  analysis, — that  its 
latent  wealth  be  all  unfolded,  and  the  gems  of  tal- 
ent be  diligently  sought  out  and  secured. 

However  we  may  illustrate  the  method  of  the 
benefits,  the  amount  of  good  in  all  likelihood  to  be 
obtained  will  abundantly  justify  an  ample  investment 
of  preparatory  means.  The  cheapness  we  plead 
for,  respects  not  the  cost  of  apparatus,  but  the  priv- 
ilege of  the  accommodations  for  the  service  of  all. 
Those  accommodations  should  be  placed  on  the 
most  liberal  footing.  No  cost  should  be  spared  to 
render  our  schools  not  only  accessible  to  every  class 
and  to  every  individual  mind,  but  to  elevate  their 
character  and  extend  and  improve  their  means  of 
usefulness.  The  standard  of  education  should  be 
raised.  Professional  instructors  should  be  duly 
honored  and  encouraged.  They  should  be  well 
paid  and  patronised,  if  we  would  secure  in  this 
5 


50 

department  a  well    trained   and  valuable   body  of 
men,  and  render  their  office  inviting  and  desirable. 

The  government  of  our  parent  state  has  never 
been  slack  of  its  bounty  in  aid  of  these  laudable 
objects.  The  recent  munificent  endowment  of  a 
school  fund  by  the  destination  given  to  the  moneys 
reimbursed  from  the  national  treasury  in  settlement 
of  our  public  claims,  and  from  the  sale  of  lands  in 
the  state  of  Maine; — the  generous  patronage  often 
extended  to  higher  seminaries — to  our  academies 
and  colleges,  and  especially  our  neighboring  Uni- 
versity, the  pride  of  Massachusetts, — these  are  so 
many  pledges  of  a  noble  liberality  to  be  looked  for 
from  the  same  quarter  as  the  interests  of  education 
shall  hereafter  require.  May  such  bounty  meet 
with  a  large  reward!  And  to  her  rising  offspring 
gratefully  appreciating  the  blessings  of  their  lot, 
may  our  beloved  Commonwealth  be  able  to  point 
exultingly  and  exclaim, — as  did  the  Roman  matron 
of  her  noble  progeny, — "These  are  my  jewels!" 

But,  secondly,  knowledge  must  be  simplified.  If 
it  is  "to  run  to  and  fro"  in  the  land,  it  must  move 
with  free  and  unfettered  foot. — It  should  be  made 
clear  and  enlightening,  to  be  useful  and  improving. 
This  may  seem  a  trite  remark  ;  but  albeit,  the  art 
of  instruction,  at  least  in  former  times,  has  been 
too  much  the  art  of  mystification.  Time  was,  and 
at  no  remote  era,  when  the  school  boy  in  his  Latin 
accidence  had  to  grope  his  way  to  a  knowledge  of 
syntax,  through  an  opaque  cloud  of  Latin  words 
enveloping  the  very  rules  themselves.  It  was  the 


51 

age  when  the  maxim  was  current,  that  "there  was 
no  royal  road  to  geometry" — of  course,  to  none  of 
the  associate  departments  of  literature  and  science ; 
and   when   the   attempt    to  penetrate   by    a   short 
North-west   passage   would    have   been   indignantly 
repelled  by  the  hereditary   lords  of  those  intellec- 
tual regions.      The  tempting  fruit  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  was  as  scrupulously  guarded  as  ever  the 
fabled  apples  in  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides ;   and 
a  literary  adventurer,  like  the  hardy,  young  Argo- 
naut of  old,   had  to  catch  the  monster,   Jealousy, 
asleep,  ere  the  golden  prize  could  be  reached  and 
won.     We  have  made  a  great  advance  since  those 
times.     Mind  has  been  disenthralled.      Numerous 
avenues  of  knowledge  have  been  forced  open.     Sci- 
ence is  discarding  her  hood  and  mufflers;  and  truth 
no  longer  with  prudish  coyness  seeks  to  hide  her 
beauteous  features  from  the  vulgar  gaze.     We  per- 
ceive the  change  in  the  more  liberalized  systems  of 
education  getting  into  vogue  ; — our  improved  man- 
uals of  juvenile  instruction; — the  reduction  of  valu- 
able principles  of  knowledge  more  nearly  to    the 
level  of  ordinary  understandings ; — and  in  general, 
the  inculcation  of  the  philosophy  of  sense,  along  with 
the  sense  of  true  philosophy. — But  all  is  not  yet 
done.      Much  rubbish  remains   to  be  gathered  up 
and  removed.     A  greater  degree  of  simplicity  must 
still  be  introduced  into  our  methods  of  teaching,  and 
the  elementary  treatises  of  popular  instruction.    The 
paths  of  learning  should  be  rendered  more  easy, 


52 

more  smooth  and  more  alluring.  The  liberal  arts 
and  sciences  should  answer  their  name  and  object 
by  being  placed  on  a  footing  of  the  freest  and  most 
liberal  access  to  every  one  ;  and  all,  for  the  purpose 
of  affording  a  vigorous  intellectual  aliment,  and 
ensuring  the  grand  desideratum, — a  sound  and  ele- 
vating "Knowledge  for  the  People." 

It  is  gratifying  to  find  our  high  schools  decidedly 
on  the  increase; — schools  open  to  all,  but  where 
the  superior  branches  of  study  which  have  been 
usually  confined  to  private  institutions  of  greater 
pretension,  are  advantageously  taught  to  youth  of 
both  sexes.  We  say,  advantageously ;  though  some, 
we  know,  would  dispute  their  benefits, — maintain- 
ing that  the  introduction  of  a  taste  for  general  know- 
ledge or  polite  literature  among  the  poorer  orders 
of  society,  must  make  them  discontented  with  their 
conditions,  unfitted  for  the  duties  they  impose,  yet 
unable  to  reach  an  accredited  position  in  the  more 
elevated  walks  of  society.  But  away  with  such  silly 
apprehensions!  If  knowledge  possessed  no  higher 
recommendation  than  the  yielding  a  fund  of  inno- 
cent and  rational  enjoyment  to  the  mind,  let  the 
comfort  be  granted  to  all.  The  tedious  hours  of 
languor  and  vacuity  incident  to  men  in  every  call- 
ing, might  thereby  be  agreeably  occupied ;  the 
pressure  of  heart-wearing  care  be  relieved  and  sof- 
tened; and  misfortune  be  beguiled,  in  part,  of  its 
sense  of  suffering  and  sorrow.  Nor  is  this  all :  If 
knowledge  should  produce  the  possible  consequence 


53 

of  rendering  its  initiates  in  the  humbler  classes  of  life 
dissatisfied  with  their  conditions,  why  be  it  so — let 
us  heartily  exclaim — and  let  them  leave  those  con- 
ditions forthwith.  The  attempt  to  rise  by  such  a 
ladder  would  be  fair  and  honorable.  Let  no  man 
forbid  the  stirrings  of  so  generous  an  ambition ;  but 
let  us  aid  them  to  mount  to  higher  and  better  for- 
tunes. The  good  effect  would  be  extensively  felt. 
It  would  quicken  those  who  are  antecedently  in  ad- 
vance, to  greater  activity  and  vigilance,  that  they 
may  not  be  outdone  in  the  generous  rivalry.  It 
would  rouse  them  to  correspondent  intellectual  ex- 
ertions to  maintain  their  relative  ascendancy ;  and 
"  forgetting  the  things  which  are  behind,  to  press 
forward  to  those  which  are  before"  in  a  perpetual 
progress  of  vigorous,  manly  improvement. 

For  my  own  part,  I  wish  to  behold  no  fixed, 
horizontal  layers  in  society, — no  arbitrary  grada- 
tions unalterably  disposed, — having  a  deep  miry 
base  in  an  ignorant,  brutish  and  sunken  populace. 
Rather,  let  the  social  structure  be  brought  into 
closer  conformity  to  what  is  often  witnessed  in  the 
physical, — as,  for  example,  among  the  gigantic, 
material  forms  of  nature; — where  the  observer  finds 
the  primitive  rock  penetrating  the  transition,  ascend- 
ing next  into  the  superior  strata,  and  finally  pierc- 
ing the  brows  of  stupendous  mountains,  like  the 
granite  peaks  on  the  tallest  of  the  Alpine  summits. 

But  whilst  we  claim  much  for  mental  cultivation, 
we   must  never  overlook  as  its  indispensable   co- 
5* 


54 

efficient,  the  assistant  agency  of  moral  instruction. 
To  ensure  the  last,  our  systems  of  common  school- 
education   might    undoubtedly    be   rendered    more 
signally  available  than  past  observation  has  gener- 
ally shown.     The  remark  of  the  celebrated  reformer 
Martin  Luther,  in  respect  to  the  seminaries  of  his 
age,  "That  they  were  more  pagan  than  Christian," 
possesses  unfortunately  too  much  of  applicability  to 
our  own.      The  school  boy,  for  the  most  part,  is 
treated  rather  as  a  creature  of  mind  than  of  soul ; 
and  the  anxiety  seems  to  be,  to  turn  him  out  a  far 
better  proficient  in  worldly  science  and  the  learning 
of  profane  antiquity,  than  a  disciple  of  divine  wis- 
dom, or  a  pupil  in  the  school  of  Christ.     I  can  only 
glance  at  the  fact  with  the  hope  that  attention  may 
be  drawn  to  the  subject,  and  remedies  may  not  be 
wanting, — and  proceed  to  advert  to  the  more  encour- 
aging auguries  furnished  by  another  class  of  juvenile 
establishments ;   I  mean,  our  sabbath  schools.     As 
an  auxiliary   among   the  means  of  early  religious 
instruction,  they  should  receive  the  approbation  of 
all.     Supplying  as  they  do,  to  a  considerable  extent 
the  deficiency,  and  administering  some  antidote  to 
the  bane,  just  complained  of,  they  cannot  be  too 
warmly  commended.     Conducted  by  different  and 
somewhat  discordant  sects,  the  end  of  all  is  Good  ; 
and  the  amount  of  good  achieved  or  in  prospect 
exceeds  calculation.     The  very  emulation  inspired 
among  the  conductors  of  these  noble  charities,  is 
not  without  its  salutary  uses.     I  envy  not  the  feel- 


55 

ings  of  that  man  who  can  look  with  frigid  indifference 
on  these  little  nurseries  of  infant  immortals  ; — who 
can  survey  unmoved  their  gentle  yet  auspicious  in- 
fluences on  the  dawning  capacities  of  the  deathless 
soul ; — and  whose  bosom  heaves  not  with  kindling 
emotion  as  he  reflects  that  here  the  seeds  of  good- 
ness, judiciously  instilled,  are  gradually  trained  into 
those  plants  of  piety  and  holiness  which,  through 
the  mercy  of  God,  will  hereafter  unfold  with  unfad- 
ing beauty  in  the  pure  air  and  the  bright  light  of 
heaven. 

Among  the  provisional  means  of  moral  and  reli- 
gious instruction,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say, 
that  the  pulpit  holds  a  prominent  place.  A  vast 
responsibility  belongs  to  it, — one  which  should  be 
wisely  and  faithfully  exercised,  and  which  cannot 
be  top  profoundly  cherished  and  realized.  The  age 
demands  that  no  meagre  nor  lifeless  form  of  Chris- 
tianity be  suffered  to  supplant  the  noble  simplicity 
of  scripture  truth.  It  requires,  as  we  have  else- 
where intimated,  that  the  gospel,  stript  of  the  tech- 
nics and  mysticism  of  bygone  times,  should  be 
propounded  as  an  enlightening  and  energizing  prin- 
ciple, adapted  to  meet  all  the  capacities  of  the 
understanding,  no  less  than  to  satisfy  all  the  wants 
and  aspirations  of  the  soul;  that,  in  short,  the 
religion  of  Jesus, — clad  in  that  meek-eyed  grace 
and  virgin  loveliness  which  she  wore  when  following 
in  the  steps  of  One  "who  went  about  doing  good," 
—shall  be  triumphantly  heralded  as  a  ministering 


56 

spirit  sent  forth  to  gladden  and  bless  all  the  habita- 
tions of  men — to  hallow  their  joys  and  sorrows,  their 
hopes  and  enterprises,  their  schemes  and  occupa- 
tions—to guide  them  through  life,  cheer  them  in 
death,  and  breathe  her  sweet  and  soothing  farewell 
in  the  ear  of  their  departing  spirits. 

These  blessings  in  their  fulness  have  never  been 
enjoyed — perfectly  enjoyed — in  any  age  or  coun- 
try. Christianity  has  consequently  never  been  fairly 
tasked  to  her  utmost  powers.  Never,  at  least, 
has  she  been  completely  tried  in  her  sublimely 
regenerative  and  strengthening  action  on  society 
and  nations.  Under  her  happiest  modifications, 
it  is  only  the  comparative  few  who  have  yielded 
entire  submission  to  her  laws.  The  residue  have 
experienced  but  partially  the  purifying  and  life-giv- 
ing influences  of  her  "free  spirit."  Yet  when  we 
candidly  consider  the  sum  of  her  benefits ;  when  we 
remember  that  imperfectly  as  she  has  been  allowed 
to  operate  in  the  world,  she  has  nevertheless  dis- 
pensed an  inestimable  amount  of  good;  when  we 
bear  in  mind  that,  like  the  ark,  she  has  left  a  bless- 
ing on  every  place  where  she  has  rested; — that 
nations,  the  rudest  and  most  polished,  which  have 
bowed  to  her  authority,  in  proportion  to  such  subjec- 
tion and  their  recipiency  of  her  genuine  spirit,  have 
been  strengthened,  and  humanized,  and  exalted ; 
that  the  gospel  is  still  the  power  of  God  and  the 
wisdom  of  God  for  safety  and  salvation, — how  pow- 
erful are  our  inducements  to  aid  the  victorious  march 


of  her  principles  in  our  land,  and  to  ensure  them  an 
universality  of  influence  and  dominion.     For  these 
ends,  the  pulpit  must  exert  a  more  stirring  influ- 
ence;— and  the  press  must  lend  a  strenuous  and 
earnest  co-operation; — and  parents  and  teachers  be 
inspired  with  a  more  solemn  sense  of  accountable- 
ness  in  their  respective  spheres  and  offices ; — and 
every  man  must  act  on  the  persuasion  that  by  the 
reform  of  personal  vice  and  the  practice  of  personal 
virtue,  he  may  contribute  something  to  his  country's 
advantage ; — and  there  must  be  principle  in  citizens 
and  principle  in  rulers; — and  men  clothed  with  high 
official  trusts  must  honor  in  their  lives  what  they 
ratify  by  their  public  acts,  and  reverence  the  divine, 
as  the  surest  helps  to  the  stability  of  human  laws, — 
and   then  along  with  piety  will  prosperity  abound 
in  our  land,  and  the  national  peace,  security,  and 
happiness  be  planted   on  the  only  firm  and  solid 
platform,  a  sound  national  morality. 

Other  specifics  may  fail.  But  that  public  virtue 
which  is  associated  with  a  truly  enlightened  condi- 
tion of  the  public  mind,  will  work  a  cure  in  the 
distempers  of  the  most  degenerate  times !  Educa- 
tion then,  to  be  completely  successful,  must  be 
directed  to  the  one  grand  ultimate  object,  the  thor- 
ough Christianization  of  a  people.  Accomplish  this, 
and  all  the  accompanying  pledges  of  a  nation's 
welfare  and  security  derived  from  its  political  insti- 
tutions, will  be  abundantly  confirmed  and  made 
good.  Christianity  would  operate  as  the  transfusion 


58 

of  fresh,  nourishing  blood  into  a  weak  and  languish- 
ing frame.  It  would  renovate  the  exhausted,  vital 
principle, — supply  new  powers  and  energies, — give 
strength  to  infirmity,  and  youthful  buoyancy  in  lieu 
of  premature  decrepitude,  and  send  a  vigorous  pulse 
and  a  healthy  circulation  through  every  vein  and 
artery  of  the  body  politic. 

Conclusively  to  test  the  remedy,  and  make  full 
trial  of  the   various  means  and  instruments  placed 
within  our  reach  for  the  maintainance  of  our  public 
privileges  and  blessings,  we  are  urged  by  the  strong- 
est Motives  which  can  address  our  sensibilities  as 
men  and  patriots.     To  the  existing  generation — our- 
selves in  common  with  our  fellow-citizens — have  been 
committed  in  custody  the  highest  interests  ever  en- 
trusted to  human  charge,  involving  not  only  our  own 
welfare  and  the  happiness  of  our  posterity,  but  bear- 
ing on  the  condition  and  prospects  of  civilized  man 
in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.     However  we  may 
flatter  ourselves  that  the  problem  has  been  success- 
fully solved,  we  have  not  yet  lived  sufficiently  long 
as  an  independent  nation,  to  silence  the  cavils  of 
those  who  affirm  the  incompetency  of  a  great  and 
free  people  for  the  arduous  duties  of  self  government. 
To  the  princes  and  cabinets  of  the  old  world — the 
patrons  and  minions  of  despotism, — we  stand  forth 
collectively  an  object  of  suspicion,  aversion  or  hate. 
Our  example  is  dreaded ;  our  influence  deprecated ; 
our  vaunted  institutions  and  the  blessings  they  be- 
stow are  regarded  with  a  temper  of  ill-disguised 


59 

jealousy,  or  open  and  uncompromising  hostility. 
Every  movement  of  intestine  disorder,  every  explo- 
sion of  popular  violence,  every  symptom  of  social 
disaffection,  real  or  imaginary,  are  interpreted  as 
evidences  of  national  degeneracy  and  the  approach- 
ing overthrow  of  our  Government  and  Union.  And 
if,  in  return,  we  have  no  feelings  of  special  sympa- 
thy for  invidious  observers  of  this  description,  we 
should  be  deterred  through  dread  of  honest  shame 
from  aught  that  might  seemingly  countenance  their 
predictions,  or  justify  by  the  issue  their  sinister  fore- 
bodings. 

But  it  is  a  more  animating  consideration  that  in 
the  eyes  of  others, — a  fast  multiplying  host, — our 
position  is  admiringly  contemplated;    that  hither- 
ward,  the  friends  of  freedom  in  regions  the  most 
distant,  turn  a  look  of  hope,  and  joy,  and  confidence ; 
that  our  land  has  become  the  asylum  of  the  children 
of  misfortune,  the  home  of  the  exiled  sons  of  liberty 
and  conscience  from  every  enslaved  and  suffering 
clime ;   and  that  the  star  of  our  country's  fortunes  is 
followed  as  the  beacon  light  of  millions  more,  in 
their  struggles  for  national  emancipation. — And  shall 
we  disappoint  their  fond  and  ardent  hopes?     Shall 
we  halt  midway  in  our  glorious  career, — or  what  is 
worse,  tread  back  our  irresolute  footsteps?     Shall 
we  abandon  the  pledges  and  securities  so  oft  and  so 
nobly  renewed  of  constancy  in  freedom's  cause,  and 
our  steadfast  assertion  of  principles  in  the  successes 
of  which  are  bound  up  our  country's  fortunes,  and 
the  interests  of  oppressed  and  persecuted  humanity 


60 

the  wide  world  over?     Forbid  it,  charity!     Forbid 
it  honor  !     Forbid  it,  patriotism! 

Let  it  quicken  our  emulation  to  reflect  that,  ele- 
vated as  we  are  in  the  sight  of  the  nations  by  our 
distinguishing   privileges,   there   is  no   culminating 
point  unalterably  fixed  in  the  book  of  fate  whither 
we  may  go  but  no  further,  and  where  our  ascend- 
ing course  shall  imperatively  be  stayed.     We  may 
rear  indeed  the  fatal  barrier  at  any  chosen  limit. 
We  may  say  when,  or  where,  that  limit  shall  be. 
For  God  has  placed  our  destinies  in  our  own  hands. 
We  may  advance,  or  we  may  retrograde.     We  may 
climb  or  fall — prosper  or  perish.     The  alternative 
is  left  with  ourselves.     But  there  is  no  escaping  the 
effects  of  moral  causes  once   deliberately  chosen, 
and  whose  dominion,  by  our  discretionary  permis- 
sion, is  established  in  the  midst.     By  wisdom  and 
righteousness  we  shall  assuredly  be  exalted.     By 
folly  and  wickedness  we  shall  sink  and  be  undone. 
A  people  wise,  virtuous,  free — true  to  reason  and 
justice,  to  duty,  conscience  and  to  God — a  people 
uniting  with  these  moral  requisites,  the  many  subsi- 
diary elements  of  political  power  enjoyed  by  our- 
selves— a  people  pre-eminently  privileged  by  every 
feature  and  circumstance  of  their  condition — masters 
of  half  a  continent,  heirs  of  the  noblest  patrimony 
that  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  man — a  people, 

"  Mature  in  youth,  a  nation  at  their  birth. 
\Vho  start  where  Europe  stops,  or  at  her  side; 
Who  spread  their  commerce  o'er  the  distant  earth, 
And  press  where  science  leads  inventive  pride," — 


61 

such  a  people,  solemnly  alive  to  their  high  and 
momentous  responsibilities,  may  reach  a  pinnacle  of 
grandeur  that  would  transcend  the  pomp  of  the 
proudest  empires  ever  known  to  history  or  fame. 

Will  you  say  that  the  issue  is  dependent  on 
the  virtue  and  patriotism  of  the  whole,  and  not  a 
part ;  that  we  form  but  a  fractional  portion — a  small 
contingent  in  the  great  mass  of  our  country's  popu- 
lation ;  and  that  it  is  the  character  and  conduct  of 
the  people  at  large,  which  must  determine  our 
future  progress?  Have  you  forgotten,  let  me  ask, 
the  moral  influence  of  our  own  New  England, — not 
alone  by  her  voice  in  the  national  councils,  nor  yet 
the  silent  efficacy  of  her  bright  and  beaming  exam- 
ple, (that  practical  exemplification  of  the  value  of 
her  institutions  so  promotive  of  knowledge  and  piety 
among  the  various  classes  of  our  citizens :)  but  do 
you  take  into  account  the  indirect  force  of  sentiment 
and  character  produced  by  the  personal  intercourse 
of  her  children  with  our  brethren  throughout  the 
Union?  Do  you  consider  her  as  the  nursing-mother 
of  a  teeming  offspring  that  go  everywhere,  mingle 
everywhere,  and  diffuse  far  and  wide  the  wholesome 
principles  and  habits  wherein  they  have  been  bred? 
— New  England  from  the  beginning  has  been  a 
great  OFFICINA  GENTIUM, — the  prolific  parent  of 
colonies  dispersed  all  over  the  land ;  and  from  the 
bosoms  of  these,  as  so  many  radiating  centres,  the 
genial  emanations  of  her  wise  and  beneficent  institu- 
tions have  never  failed  to  be  disseminated.  And  no 
6 


62 

man  of  perception  will  be  startled  at  the  assertion, 
as  too  extravagant,  which  we  offer, — that  to  this 
day,  New  England  continues  to  exert  a  preponder- 
ating influence  on  the  whole  national  character,  on 
the  genius  of  our  government,  and  the  general  pol- 
icy and  bias  of  all  our  public  legislation.  Her  image 
and  superscription  are  stamped  deep  on  the  face  of 
society.  She  has  thrown  those  distinctive  ingredi- 
ents into  our  country's  character  which  make  it 
what  it  is — individuated  from  all  others — a  character 
of  unconquerable  energy  and  enterprise— a  charac- 
ter of  wisdom  and  firmness — a  character  of  "power 
and  a  sound  mind." 

The  influence  of  New  England,  whether  for  good 
or  evil,  is  felt ;  and  it  will  continue  to  be  every 
where  felt  so  long  as  our  national  league  shall  be 
perpetuated.  It  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  the  ratio 
of  its  congressional  representation  within  the  walls 
of  the  Capitol.  Nor  is  it  an  arithmetical  product 
expressible  in  plain  figures,  or  which  may  be  arrived 
at  by  the  rules  of  common  equations  ;  but  rather  a 
politico-algebraic  quantity  determinable  by  other 
exponents,  and  requiring  deeper  powers  of  compu- 
tation and  extraction.  Enough  that  the  spirit  of  the 
Pilgrims, — so  much  of  it  as  has  lived  down  to  our 
days, — far  from  being  confined  to  New  England,  has 
imperceptibly  spread  from  the  strand  first  printed 
by  Pilgrim  feet,  to  the  remotest  "  log-house  beyond 
the  mountains."  That  spirit  was  the  spirit  of  free- 
dom, informed  and  regulated  by  virtue  and  under- 


63 

standing.  And  shall  we  not  cherish  it?  Shall  we 
not  foster  the  institutions  which  have  contributed  to 
preserve  it?  Shall  not  Masachusetts, — she  who 
first  breathed  its  vital  breath,  and  grew  and  waxed 
strong  under  its  generous  nurture, — repay  the  debt 
of  filial  gratitude  by  treasuring  the  principles  which 
were  infused  into  her  young  bosom,  and  giving  them 
a  precedence  in  her  esteem  and  veneration?  And 
shall  not  we,  the  sons  of  Massachusetts,  maintain 
and  honor  them?  Shall  we  not  bind  them  as  a  sign 
upon  our  hands,  and  as  frontlets  between  our  eyes?* 
Shall  wre  not  write  them  upon  the  door-posts  of  our 
habitations,  and  inscribe  them  upon  our  gates  ? 
Shall  we  not  speak  of  them  to  our  children,  when 
we  sit  in  our  houses,  or  when  we  walk  by  the  way, — 
on  our  lying  down  and  on  our  rising  up  ?  Yes, 
though  all  others  should  forget  them,  yet  will  not 
we.  Sooner  shall  the  right  hand  forget  its  cunning 
— sooner  shall  the  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  its 
mouth,  than  we  prefer  them  not  above  our  chief  joy ! 
To  my  respected  audience,  whose  indulgent  at- 
tention I  have  perhaps  too  heavily  taxed,  I  beg  to 
commend  the  thoughts  suggested  by  the  theme  and 
the  occasion.  I  cherish  the  hope  that  in  the  bosoms 
of  those  at  whose  command  I  have  ventured  on  the 
responsibility  of  this  discourse,  the  sentiments  ad- 
vanced will  find  a  cordial  response.  I  rejoice  to 
believe  that  in  addressing  the  Representatives  of  the 
people  of  Massachusetts,  I  address  the  heirs  of  the 

*  Deuteronomy,  vi.  C — 9. 


64 

virtues  of  our  common  progenitors; — that  in  appear- 
ing in  an  assembly  embodying  the  collective  wisdom 
of  our  ancient  Commonwealth,  I  behold  around  me 
the  worthy  sons  of  worthy  sires, — Hebrews  of  the 
Hebrews,  "whose  are  the  FATHERS." 

And  what  a  sublime  spectacle  do  we  contemplate  t 
A  whole  people,  in  the  persons  of  their  rulers,  con- 
vened as  the  first  act  of  official  duty  at  the  opening 
of  the  civil  year,  to  invoke  on  their  bended  knees 
the  blessing  of  the  God  of  their  ancestors !  Shall 
it  be  in  mere  solemn  form  ?  Should  not  every  soul 
ascend  in  fervent  gratitude  to  that  Benignant  Power 
whose  covering  wing  has  been  about  us,  and  pro- 
tected us  amid  all  the  perils  of  the  way,  and  guided 
us  from  "the  day  of  small  things," — the  first  faint- 
ing march  in  a  waste,  howling  wilderness — "  through 
the  sea"  and  "under  the  cloud" — through  dark- 
ness, storm  and  sunshine — till  we  have  reached  a 
landscape  rich  in  beauty  and  promise,  where  the 
eye  is  regaled  with  scenes  of  smiling  content  and 
gladsome  prosperousness  spread  out  in  brightest 
perspective  around  us  1  Is  there  a  heart  that 
should  not  feel  stronger  bound  to  a  brother's  heart, 
by  participation  in  common  deliverances  and  mer- 
cies, and  the  sweets  of  kindred  joys  and  kindred 
remembrances  ?  Is  there  a  bosom  that  nurses — oh 
no,  it  cannot  be — a  bosom  nevertheless  not  totally 
devoid  of  feelings  of  ungenerous  rivalry,  or  bitter 
enmities,  or  schemes  of  dark,  selfish  and  sordid 
ambition?  Should  it  not  offer  up  the  whole  in 


65 

cheerful  and  manly  sacrifice  ?  And  every  foul  pas- 
sion— should  it  not  be  brought  at  once  to  the  altar 
of  patriotism,  and  be  unsparingly  condemned  and 
consumed  1  Here  in  this  hallowed  court,  should 
not  hand  strike  to  hand,  and  heart  and  voice  unite 
in  solemn  vows  of  unshaken  loyalty  to  freedom,  and 
virtue,  and  country,  and  God  ?  And  should  not  all 
resolve  ever  more  to  move  forward  as  brethren  and 
patriots,  seeking  the  common  good,  "provoking  to 
love  and  good  works,"  scorning  all  parley  with  the 
serpent  tongue  of  crooked  policy  and  deceit,  nor 
ever  stooping  to  one  base  compliance  that  would 
assoil  the  noble  blood  that  flows  in  their  veins  ? 

In  presenting  my  valedictory  respects  to  His 
Honor  the  Commander  in  Chief,  on  his  retirement 
from  the  elevated  station  he  has  so  ably  filled,  the 
cheering  hope  is  indulged  that  his  distinguished 
public  services  will  not  long  be  lost  to  our  beloved 
Commonwealth.  Our  hearty  prayers  and  best 
wishes  attend  him  to  the  arduous  and  honorable, 
though  narrower  sphere  which  he  goes  to  occupy, — 
that  in  exchanging  the  chair  of  state  for  the  civic 
wreath,  he  may  be  equally  successful  in  winning 
the  warm  attachments  and  confidence  of  his  new 
constituents,  as  it  has  been  his  merited  fortune  to 
secure  from  all  classes  of  his  fellow  citizens  whilst 
administering  the  highest  functions  of  the  govern- 
ment of  this  state.* 

*  As  it  is  probal>!e  that  a  few  copies  of  this  Discourse   will   survive  .to  another 
generation,  on  ilie  shelves  at  least  of  our  public  libraries,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 


66 

His  Excellency,  the  Governor  elect,  will  indulge 
the  expression  of  my  cordial  congratulations  on  the 
new  and  brilliant  preferment  which  has  fallen  to  his 
singularly  happy  lot.  We  rejoice  with  him  that  he 
lives  in  an  age  and  a  community  in  which  splendid 
merit  need  fear  no  political  ostracism  on  the  score 
of  envy; — that  "he  dwells  among  his  own  people," 
— a  people  keen  to  appreciate,  and  which  delight  to 
honor,  public  worth  in  proportion  to  its  eminence, — 
a  people  ever  ready  to  shower  with  liberal  hand  the 
rewards  which  are  due  to  lofty,  unswerving  and 
devoted  patriotism.  His  Excellency  is  too  well 
versed  in  the  study  of  the  ancients  to  have  forgotten 
the  memorable  maxim  of  an  illustrious  sage — "That 
a  people  will  be  then  well  governed,  when  rulers  shall 
become  philosophers,  or  when  philosophers  shall  be 
made  rulers."  From  a  civil  magistrate  who  has 
drunk  deep  from  the  purest  fountains  of  wisdom, 
and  whose  name  has  become  one  of  the  fairest 
ornaments  of  letters  and  of  science,  we  cannot  but 
anticipate  that  the  interests  of  sound  learning  as 


record  for  the  informationof  some  fulure  chance-reader, — (hat  in  consequence  of  the 
election  of  His  Excellency  Governor  Davis  to  the  Senate  of  the  U.  S.  in  February, 
1835.  the  chair  of  state  was  filled  during-  the  residue  of  the  political  year  by  His 
Honor  Lieutenant  Governor  Armstrong.  The  latter  having  been  chosen  Mayor  of 
the  city  of  Boston,  entered  upon  the  duties  of  that  office  on  the  first  Monday  in  Jan- 
flary,  183G,  but  continued  to  preside  in  the  Executive  Government  of  the  Common- 
wealth until  his  successor,  Governor  Everett,  was  duly  inducted  into  the  chief 
magistracy.  This  was  on  Wednesday,  13th  January.  Accordingly,  on  the  day 
of  General  Election,  (Jan.  6th)  Lt.  Gov.  Armstrong  exhibited  the  rare  spectacle 
of  an  individual  combining  in  his  person,  at  one  and  the  same  lime,  the  triple 
offices  of  acting  Governor  of  the  State,  (of  course,  Commander  in  Chief,) — Lieu- 
tenant Governor,  by  his  own  right — and  Mayor  of  the  metropolis. 


67 

Well  as  those  of  piety,  virtue  and  humanity  will  be 
zealously  aided  and  befriended;  that  the  public 
welfare,  wisely  discerned  and  steadily  pursued,  will 
be  the  grand  and  successful  aim  of  his  ardent  solici- 
tudes ;  and  that  his  administration  will  be  as  blest 
in  future  realizations,  as  it  is  bright  in  present 
promises,  of  extensive  and  durable  usefulness. 

The  Honorable  Council  and  the  members  of  the 
two  branches  of  the  Honorable  Legislature  will 
please  to  accept  the  respectful  salutations  of  one 
who  shares  in  the  gratulatory  sentiments  of  the 
community  at  large,  that  the  government  of  the 
state  in  all  its  branches  is  entrusted  to  able  hands 
—  men  of  wise  heads  and  honest  hearts — who 
doubtless  will  watch  over  with  fidelity,  and  man- 
age with  prudence  and  sound  discretion,  the  im- 
portant interests  committed  to  their  charge.  But 
pardon,  Brethren  and  Fathers,  pardon  the  solemn 
earnestness  of  the  voice  that  adjures  you  never 
to  forget  the  amount  of  stake  involved  in  those 
interests.  Remember  that  you  hold  in  qualified 
trust  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  present  and 
coming  generations.  Your  measures  of  policy,  your 
legislative  acts,  may  tell  by  the  chain  of  lengthening 
consequences  on  the  fortunes  of  a  far  distant  age. 
Agencies,  commenced  at  a  point  in  time,  may 
stretch  their  undulating  circles  over  an  illimitable 
expanse.  They  may  sweep  their  mighty  segments 
across  the  tide  of  human  existence  and  human  affairs 
at  points  that  lie  hid  by  their  remoteness  afar  from 


68 

mortal  ken  and  forethought.     Man  is  ephemeral; 
but  not  man's  influence,  nor  yet  his  responsibility. 

I  have  glanced  at  the  spectacle  as  no  less  inter- 
esting than  sublime,  —  a  people  on  their  bended 
knees  imploring  the  blessing  of  the  God  of  their 
forefathers.  But  more  deeply  solemn  is  the  thought, 
that  we,  who  present  this  act  of  homage  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Him  before  whom  empires  are  bubbles  and 
worlds  are  atoms,  form  but  a  moving  group  in  the 
long  procession  of  years  and  generations, — connect- 
ing the  shadowy  past  with  the  dim  and  uncertain 
future, — ourselves  but  transient  figures, — here  to- 
day, anon  to  remove  and  be  gone.  Two  hundred 
congregations,  on  as  many  anniversaries,  have  suc- 
cessively gathered  to  worship  in  this  city  of  our 
solemnities,  on  the  recurrence  of  the  self-same  occa- 
sion we  have  come  to  celebrate.*  But  how  changed 

*  The  precise  number  of  these  religious  assemblages  on  all  the  days  of  General 
Election,  is  believed  to  be  two  hundred  and  four.  The  first  Election  Sermon  U'as 
preached  in  1631 ;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  service  was  ever  after- 
wards omitted  except  in  the  years  1752  and  1764,  when  the  small  pox  prevailed  in 
Boston.  Once  indeed  it  was  preached  to  Convention,  and  not  before  the  Execu- 
tive Government, — namely,  on  the  deposkion  of  Andros  in  1689.  But  in  1775,  two 
Election  Sermons  were  preached — one  of  them  before  the  Provincial  Congress 
in  May,  and  the  other  before  the  General  Court  in  July.  This  was  3t  Water- 
town.  Thrice  previously,  these  discourses  had  been  delivered  in  Cambridge. 
Deducting  therefore  the?.e  four  years  for  the  change  of  place,  and  the  two  years  of 
entire  omission  of  religious  exercises  in  consequence  of  the  prevalence  of  small 
pox,  it  leaves  the  number,  (estimated  from  1630,)  exactly  Two  Hundred,  in  which 
the  annual  Election  Sermon  has  been  preached  in  Boston. 

In  proof  of  the  unbroken  series,  (with  the  exceptions  named.)  of  these  religious 
celebrations,  I  am  happy  in  being  able  to  cite  the  impressions  of  a  gentleman  of 
distinguished  accuracy  and  research,  the  Rev.  Dr  Peirce  of  Rrookliue.  In  a  com- 
munication received  from  him  whilst  these  sheets  were  passing  through  the  press, 
he  remarks  : — "  I  have  no  evidence  thai  an  Election  Sermon  ever  failed,  except  in 
the  cases,  and  for  the  reasons,  specified  in  the  list  of  1809.  Nor  does  it  appear 
that  an  Election  Sermon  was  ever  delivered,  which  was  not  printed." 


69 

the  scene,  contrasted  with  the  era  when  our  pious 
ancestors  first  met  to  pay  their  votive  offerings,  on 
laying  the  foundations  of  the  government !     They 
convened  within  no  gorgeous  temple,  but  under  the 
thached  roof  of  a  poor,  mud- walled  chapel.     And 
they  came  with  arms  in  their  hands ;   and  mothers, 
— in  dread  of  savage  yells,  or  the  rustling  flight  of 
murderous  arrows, — prest  their  babes  more  closely 
to  their  breasts,  at  the  startling  note  of  the  pass- 
ing  sea-birds,   or  the  whistling  of  the  rude  fitful 
blasts.      We   meet  in   peace; — having  no   foes  to 
alarm  us, — no  weapons  borne  with  us  for  defence  to 
the  house  of  God.     But  the  Fathers — the  Fathers — 
where  are  they  ?     Their  venerable  forms  have  long 
since  vanished  as  airy  nothings,  or  the  phantoms  of 
a  dream.     But  their  influence  lives.     Their  princi- 
ples survive.     The  impress  of  their  minds,   their 
characters  and  their  acts  is  discernible  or  felt  in 
every  scene  and  every  object  around  us.     Let  us 
cherish  their  spirit  and  emulate  their  virtues,  that 
the  blessings  we  inherit  may  be  transmitted  unim- 
paired to  our  posterity.     And  oft  as  their  hallowed 
shades  rising  up  through  the  mist  of  years  shall 
bend  on  fancy's  vision,  let  us  view  them  as  a  cloud 
of  witnesses  that  beckon  us  onward  in  the  paths  of 
integrity,  and  usefulness,  and  honor; — bidding  us 
especially  so  to  improve  the  fugitive  moments  of  our 
responsible  being,  that  having  served  our  generation 
by  the  will  of  God,  we  may  ascend  at  last  to  "  the 
true  tabernacle"  in  the  heavens  which  "the  Lord 


70 

hath  pitched  and  not  man," — and  join  the  convoca- 
tion of  the  wise  and  good,  collected  from  out  of  all 
ages, — heirs  in  common  of  an  immortal  heritage — 
the  "Jerusalem  which  is  above  and  FREE,  the 
mother  of  us  all." 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX. 


A  LIST  OF  THOSE  WHO  HAVE  PREACHED  ON  THIS  ANNIVERSARY. 

THE  following  is  added  by  desire  of  the  Historical  Society. 
Gentlemen  of  information  are  requested  to  fill  up  the  blanks. 
Those  who  possess  any  Election  Sermons,  particularly  for  the 
first  century  of  Massachusetts,  will  benefit  the  public  and  pos- 
terity, by  depositing  them  in  the  library  of  the  Historical  So- 
ciety, where  they  will  be  gratefully  received  and  carefully  pre- 
served. Those  which  were  in  that  library  in  1809,  are 
marked  with  a  star. 

N.  B.— By  comparing  the  ensuing  table  with  that  annexed 
to  the  discourse  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Osgood,  (in  1809,)  it  will 
be  perceived  that  a  considerable  number  of  blanks  has  been 
filled  up.  In  the  column  of  names,  between  the  years  1646 
and  1717,  fifteen  deficiences  are  supplied  ;  in  that  of  residen- 
ces, thirteen  ;  and  ten  more,  under  the  head  of  texts  or  sub- 
jects. These  interesting  gleanings  have  been  contributed  by 
the  kindness  of  the  friend  mentioned  on  a  former  page — the 
learned  and  Rev.  Dr.  John  Pierce.  The  remainder  of  the 
list  since  1809  has  been  completed  by  another  hand;  and  the 
endeavor  has  been  to  render  it  scrupulously  accurate.  The 
result  is,  that  every  preacher  since  1691,  and  both  every 
preacher  and  text  since  1697,  have  been  ascertained  and  re- 
corded. 

7 


74 


Year. 

BY  WHOM. 

OP  WHAT  PLACE. 

TEXT. 

SIZE. 

1631 

Rev. 

16-W 

16.54 

"      John  Collon,   . 

Boston, 

[Haggai,ii.  4.*] 

. 

163  •> 

1636 

Ki37 

"      Thomas  Shepard,    . 

Newtown  . 

1640 

1  r  i  i 

"      Nathaniel  \Vard, 

1642 

1(Ll  -* 

*'      Ezekicl  Rogers,      . 

Rowley      .         . 

M44 

1645 

1646 

"      Edward  Norris,       . 

1647 

1643 

"      Zechariah  ^ymmes, 

Cliarlestown, 

1619 

"      Tliomas  Cobbell,    . 

Ipswich,     . 

. 

1650 

1651 

1652 

1653 

16H 

16S5 

1656 

"      Charles  Chauncy.t  . 

Cambridge, 

• 

1658 

"      Joiiaih:in  Mitchell,  . 

16  9 

"      John  Eliot, 

Roxbury,   . 



1660 

"      Richard  Mather,     . 

Dorrhester, 

Psatm,  Ixxvii.  20, 

1661 

"      *Juhn  Norton, 

Boston, 

Jeremiah,  xxx.  17,    . 

4to. 

1662 

1661 

*T     1          IT'  -*.-'     „ 

"John  Higginson,    . 

Salem, 

1  Kings,  viii.  57,  58,  59 

do. 

1661 

"      Kit-hard  Miiiher,     . 

Dorchester, 

llajjgai.  ii.  4,    . 

1665 

•<       John  Kussell.  . 

Had  ley,      . 

I'salm,  cxxii.  2, 

. 

16(16 

"      'J'homas  Cobbett,    . 

l|)n\vicll, 

•2  ('hroincles,  xv.  2,  . 

. 

1667 

"      "Jonathan  Min  hel. 

Cambridge, 

Nehemiidi,  ii.  10, 

do. 

J668 

"      *\Vin.  iSioiighioii4  . 

Dorchester, 

Isaiah,  Ixiii  8,  . 

do. 

1670 

"       Samuel  Daiifbrlll,    . 

Koxhury,   . 

Matthew,  xi.  1,  8,  9  . 

1671 

"John  (  Ixenhriclgc.  . 

Boston,       . 

Hosea,  viii.  4,  . 

12  mo. 

1672 

"      "Tboina-iShopard,  . 

("harlestown, 

Jf-remlah.  i>.  31, 

4i->. 

167.5 

"      *Urian  Oakes  t 

Cainl>ridj;e, 

Deul.  xvxii.  2,  . 

do. 

1674 

"      "Samuel   I'orre^',     . 

Weyniouth, 

Revelatidii,  i'.  5, 

do. 

167.0 

'•      Moody,  . 

Ju<lges,  ii.  12,   . 

1676 

"      *U  illinin  Mul'bard, 

Ipswich,     . 

1  Chronicles,  xii.  32. 

do. 

1677 

"      Increase  Maiher,     . 

Boston, 

1  Chronicles,  xxviii.  9 

do. 

167H 

"       Snnuiel  Phillips,      . 

Kovvley, 

1  Timothy,  ii   2, 

KJ79 

"      *James  Allen, 

Boston,       . 

1  Kings,  viii.  57,       .  i     do. 

«      Bulkley, 

1681 

"      \\  illiam  Ur  insmca.l 

Marlborough.     . 

Jeremiah,  vi.  8, 

| 

1682 

"      Samuel  Willanl,     .     Boston,      . 

Jeremiah,  xxvi.  12,  13 

1688 

"      *.Samtiel  Torre3',     . 

\\Vvnioudi, 

Dem.  xxxii.  47, 

4to. 

1684 

"      [John]  Hale,  . 

[Beverley.] 

Haggai,  ii.  4,    . 

do. 

•What  is  inc'uded  in  brackets,  ha«  been  added  on  probnH  iiy,  or  without  positive  authority. 

t  Presidents  uf  Harvard  College.             J  Afierward  Lieutenant  Governor. 

75 


Year. 

BY  WHOM. 

OP  WHAT  PLACK. 

TEXT. 

SIZE. 

168  5 

Rev.  'William  Adams,    . 

[Dedham,] 

Isaiah,  Ixvi.  *2,  . 

4lo. 

16  Bo 

"      Mic'l  Wigglesworlli. 

.Mulde.ii,     . 

Revelations,  ii.  4, 

do. 

16^7 

1689 

"      Totton  Mather,*     . 

Boston, 

2  Chron.  xv.  2, 

12  mo. 

WO 

"      *Cottoa  Mather, 

Boston, 

Nehemiah,  v.  19, 

do. 

1691 

1692 

"       f  Joshua]  .Moodey, 

[Boston  ] 

1693 

•'      *lncrea.-.e  Maiht-r,  . 

Boston, 

Isaiah,  i.  26,      . 

4to. 

1694 

'•'      "Samuel  Willnrd,  . 

Boston, 

2  Samuel,  xxiii.  3,     . 

12  mo. 

1695 

"      "Samuel  Torrey,     . 

Weymoulh, 

Hosea,  i   7, 

do. 

1696 

"      Cotton  Mather. 

Bo>lOH, 

1  Samuel,  vii.  6  —  10, 

, 

1697 

"      [John]  D.niorlh,     . 

[Dorchester.] 

1698 

"      "Nicholas  Noycs,    . 

Salem, 

Jeremiah,  xxxi.  23,   . 

12  mo. 

1699 

"      Increase*  MiiihiT 

1700 

"      "Cotton  Mather, 

Boston, 

Psalm,  cxlvii.  2, 

12  mo. 

1701 

"       Joseph  Belc  her,         . 

Dedham,    . 

Job,  xxix.  25,    . 

do. 

1702 

"       Increase  Mather, 

Boston, 

Esther,  x  3,      . 

do. 

1703 

"      Solomon   Sloddard, 

Northampton,    . 

Exodus,  xx.  12, 

1704 

"      'Jonathan  Russell    . 

Barnsiable, 

Nehemiah,  ix  33, 

4to. 

170.^ 

"      *J   E-tnt.  rooks,  A  M. 

Concord,    . 

Genesis,  Xii.  2,  . 

do. 

1706 

"      John  Rogers, 

Ipswich,     . 

1  Kings,  viii.  57,  58, 

12  mo. 

1707 

"      Samuel  Belcher, 

Newhury,  . 

Matthew,  vi.  10, 

do. 

1708 

'•      John  Norton,  . 

Hingliam,  . 

Numbers,  xiv.  11, 

do. 

1709 

"      (t.  Rawson,  A.  M.   . 

Mendon,     . 

Jeremiah,  xiii    16, 

do. 

1710 

"      *EI'en.  Pemberion. 

Boston,       . 

Psalm,  Ixxxii.  6,  7,    . 

do. 

1711 

"      Pet.Tharher,  A.  M. 

iMillon 

Isaiah,  Ivii.  18,  . 

do. 

1712 

"      Samuel  Cheever,     . 

Marblehead, 

Psalm,  x*ii.  27,  28,  . 

do. 

1713 

"      Samuel  'I'reat, 

Easiham,  . 

Psalm,  ii.  8,      . 

17U 

"      Samuel  Danlorth,   . 

Taunlon,    . 

Psalm,  Ixxx.  14, 

12  mo. 

1715 

"      Jer.  Shepard,  A.  M. 

Lynn, 

Isaiah,  Ixiii.  12, 

do. 

1716 

"      Benja.  \Vadsvvoith, 

Boston,      . 

Psalm,  Ixxviii.  72,     . 

do. 

17.7 

"      Roland  Cotton, 

Sandwich, 

Ecclexiastes,  xii.   13, 

do. 

1718 

"      Benj.  Colman,  A.  M. 

Boston. 

Nehemiah.  v.  19, 

do. 

1719 

"      'Win  Williams,    - 

Haifield,    . 

Judges,  ii.  2,     . 

do. 

1720 

'•'      Naihaii'd  Sionc.     . 

Harwich,    . 

Romans,  xiii.  3, 

do. 

1721 

"      'Sam.  Moo<ley,A  M 

York, 

Luke,  iv.  14,  15, 

do. 

1722 

"      John  Hancock,!  " 

Lexington, 

Luke,  xxii  25,  . 

do. 

1723 

"      Benjamin  Colman,  . 

Boston, 

1  Chron.  xxviii.  8, 

do. 

1721. 

"      Joseph  Sewall, 

Boston, 

2  Samuel,  xxiii.  3,  4, 

do. 

1725 

"      Eben  Thayer.  A.  M 

Roxbury,   . 

Jeremiah,  vi.  8. 

do. 

1726 

"      Peter  Thacher,     '• 

Boston, 

Psalm,  Ixxvii.  20, 

do. 

1727 

"      Joseph  Baxter,  M.  A 

Medfiel.l,    . 

1  Timothy,  ii.  1,2,   . 

do. 

1728 

"      Robert  Breck,  A.  M 

M^rlborough,     . 

Dent.  v.  29,       . 

do. 

1729 

"      Jerem    Wise,  M.  A 

Berwick,    . 

Romans,  xiii   4, 

8vo 

1730 

"      Thos.  Prince,        '• 

Boston,       . 

I  Samuel  ii.  6,  7, 

do. 

1731 

"       Samuel  Fiske,      " 

Saiem, 

Psalm,  ci.  6, 

do. 

1732 

"      John  Swift,           " 

Framingham, 

Luke  xiii.  9,     . 

do. 

1733 

"     Sam.  Wigglesworth 

Ipswich,     . 

Rev.  iii.  1,2,. 

do. 

*  To  Convention,  after  Andros  was  deposed. 

<  Prom  this  period,  the  serie*  is  nearly  complete  ;  and  several  duplicates  are  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Society,  which  they  \vouM  be  hiippy  to  change  for  any  rare  rr  curicus  historical 
tract?.  Among  the  few  which  are  wanting,  the  Sermon  lor  1730  Is  lo»t  or  mislaid,  and  a  copy 
woul.l  be  very  grateluily  acknowledged. 


76 


Year. 

BY  WHOM. 

OP  WHAT  PLACE. 

TEXT. 

SIZE. 

17-4 

Rev.  John  Barnard,  A.  M 

Marblehead, 

Proverbs,  xvi.  12,     . 

8vo 

1735 

''     Ji>hn  Prentice,      '' 

Lancaster, 

2Chron.xvii.3,4,5,  6 

do. 

1736 

"     Edw.  Holyoke.M.  A 

iMarblehead, 

Noheminh,  vii.  2, 

do. 

1737 

"     Israel  Loring,  A.  M. 

Sudbury,   . 

Rev.  ii.  5, 

do. 

1733 

"     John  Webb,  M.  A    . 

Hosloii, 

Isaiah,  ix.  6, 

do. 

1739 

"     Peter  Clarke,  A.  M. 

Salem. 

Ho*ea,  xi.  12,   . 

do. 

1740 

"     Wm.  Cooper,       " 

Hoston, 

Psalm,  ii.  10,  11,  12, 

do. 

1741 

"     Wm.  Williams,  M.  A. 

\Veston,     . 

Zech.  xii.  5, 

do. 

1742 

"     N.  Appleton,  A.  M 

Cambridge, 

Psalm,  Ixxii.  1,  2,  3, 

do. 

1743 

'     Naih.  Eells,  V.  D.  M. 

Sciiuate,    . 

Deut.  xxxii.  47, 

do. 

1744 

'     J.  Allin,  V.  D.  M.    . 

Hrookline, 

Isaiah,  vi.  1, 

do. 

1745 

'     Eben.  G-iy,  A.  AI.    . 

Hingham,  . 

2  Samuel,  xxi.  17,     . 

do. 

1746 

'     John  Barnard.  M.  A. 

Andover,   . 

Psalm    Ixxxii.  1, 

do. 

1747 

'     Ch.  Chauncey,  D.  D. 

Boston, 

2  Samuel,  xxiii.  3,     . 

do. 

1748 

"     Daniel  Lewis.  A  M. 

Pembroke, 

Isaiah,  xxii.  21, 

do. 

1749 

"     William  Balcli,  " 

Bradford,  . 

Psalm,  cxxii.6,7,8,9 

do. 

1750 

"     Sam'l  Phillips,    " 

Andover,  . 

Prov.  viii.  15,  16, 

do. 

1751 

"     Wm.  Welsteed,  " 

Boston,      . 

Psalm,  xlvii.  9, 

do. 

1752* 

1753 

"     John  Collon.       " 

Newlon,     . 

Fsaiah,  xxxiii.  6, 

do. 

1754 

"    Jona.  Mayhe'w,  D.  D. 

Boston, 

Matthew,  xxv.  21,     . 

.    do. 

1755 

'•'     S.  Checkley,  A.  M. 

Pioston, 

Zcphaniah,  i.  15, 

do. 

1756 

"     Snni'l  Cooper,    " 

Boston, 

Heb.  xi.  24,  25,  "1G,  . 

do. 

1757 

"     Ebenezer  Pemberlon. 

Boston, 

Deul.  v.  29, 

do. 

1758 

•'     Thomas  Friuk,  A.  M. 

Rutland,     . 

Isaiah,  xxxii.  1,  2,     . 

do. 

1759 

"     Jos   Parsons,         " 

Bradford,  . 

Esther,  x.  3,      . 

do. 

1760 

"     Samuil  Dunbar,  " 

Stoughton, 

2  Ciiron  xv.  1,  2, 

do. 

1761 

"     Benj.  Stevens,      " 

Killery, 

2  Cor.  iii.  17,    . 

do. 

1762 

'•     Ab'm  Williams,    " 

Sandwich, 

1  Cor.  xii.  25,    . 

do. 

1763 

"     Thos.  Barnard,    " 

Salem, 

Judges,  ix.  7  to  15,  . 

do. 

1764* 

do. 

1765 

"    Andrew  Eliot,      " 

Boston, 

1  Chron.  xii.  32, 

do. 

1766 

"     Edw.  Barnard,     " 

Haverhill,  .         . 

Neh.  v.  19. 

do. 

1767 

"     Kben.  Bridge,      " 

Chelmsford, 

Deut.  xxxiii.  39, 

do. 

1768 

"     Daniel  Shnte,       " 

Hinsham,  . 

Ezra,  x.  4, 

do. 

1769 

"     Jason  Haven,       " 

Dedham,    . 

Psalm,  Ixxv.  6,  7, 

do. 

1770 

"     Samuel  Cooke.f   " 

Cambridge, 

2  Sam.  xxiii.  3,  4,     . 

do. 

1771 

"    John  Tucker,t      " 

Newbury,  . 

IPet.  ii.  13,  14,  15,16, 

do. 

1772 

"     Moses  Parsons,t   " 

Newbury-Falls, 

Proverbs,  xxi.  1, 

do. 

1773 

"     Charles  Turner,   " 

Duxbury,  . 

Romans,  xiii.  4, 

do. 

1774 

"     Gad  Hitchcock,   " 

Pembroke,         . 

Proverbs,  xxix.  2,     . 

do. 

1775 

"    S.  Langdon,  D    D.| 

Cambridge, 

Isaiah,  i.  26,      . 

do. 

"     William  Gordon,§    . 

Roxbury,   .         . 

Jeremiah,  xxx.  9,0,  21, 

do. 

1776 

"     Samuel  West,  A.  M. 

Dartmouth, 

Titus,  iii.  1, 

do. 

1777 

"     Sam'l  Webster,    " 

Salisbury,  . 

Ezekiel,  xlv.  8,  9,     . 

do. 

1778 

"     I'hillips  Payson,   " 

Chelsea,    . 

Galatians,  iv.  26,  31, 

do. 

1779 

"     Samuel  Stillman,  " 

Boston, 

Matthew,  xxii.  21,    . 

do. 

1780 

"    Simeon  Howard,  " 

Boston, 

Exodus,  xviii.  21,     . 

do. 

'Small  Pox  in  Boston— no  Sermon  preached. 


t  At  Cambridge. 


:  President  of  Harvard  College.    Preached  hefore  the  Provincial  Congress,  at  Watertown, 

May  31. 


§  Preached  before  the  General  Court  at  Watertown,  on  the  19th  July,  on  their  assembling, 
agreeably  to  the  advice  of  Congress,  for  the  choice  of  Counsellors. 


77 


Year. 

BY  WHOM. 

OF  WHAT  PLACE. 

TEXT. 

SIZE. 

1781 

Rev.  Jonas  Clarke,  A.  M 

Lexington, 

Psalm,  xlvii.  8,  9,     . 

8vo 

1782 

"     Zabdiel  Adams,   " 

Lunenburg, 

Ecclesiastes,  viii.  4,  . 

do. 

1783 

"     Henry  Cumings,  " 

Billerica,    .         .  ,  1  Peter,  v.  ft,    . 

do. 

1284 

"     Moses  Hemmenway, 

Wells,        .        .  j  Gnlatians,  v.  13, 

do. 

1785 

"     \Vm.  Symmes,  A.  M 

Andover,    .        .     1  Chron.  xxviii.  8.     . 

do. 

1736 

"     Samuel  West,      " 

Needham,. 

Maithew,  xx.  27, 

do. 

1787 

"    Joseph  Lyman, 

Hatficld,    . 

Romans,  xiii.  4, 

do. 

1788 

"     David  Parsons,  A.  M 

Amherst,    . 

Proverbs,  xxiv.  2, 

do. 

1789 

"     Josiah  Bridge, 

East  Sudbury,  .  I  Psalm,  Ixxxii.  1, 

do. 

1790 

"     Daniel  Foster,  A.  M 

NewBraintree,  .     Proverbs   viii.  16,     . 

do. 

1791 

"     Chand.  Robhins,  " 

Plymouth,           .  ;  2  ChroH.  xii.  12, 

do. 

1792 

"     David  Tappan,    " 

Newhury,           .    Psalm,  Ixxvii.  20, 

do. 

1793 

"     Sam.  Parker,  D.  D. 

Boston, 

Proverbs,  xiv.  34,     . 

do. 

1794 

"     Sam.  Deane,        " 

Portland,   . 

Proverbs,  iii.  6, 

do. 

1795 

"     Perez  Forbes,  LL.  D. 

Raynham, 

2  Peter,  ii.  10.  12,    . 

do. 

ngfi 

"     Jona.  French,  A.  M. 

Andover,   . 

Romans,  xiii.  5, 

do. 

1797 

"     John  Mellen,  Jr. 

Barnstable,         .  !  1  Peter,  ii.  15,  . 

do. 

1798 

"     Naih  Emmdns,  A.M. 

Franklin,    . 

Daniel,  vi.  28,  . 

do. 

1799 

"     Paul  Coffin,           " 

Buxton, 

2  Samuel,  xxi.  17,     . 

do. 

1800 

"    Jos.  M'Keen,        " 

Beverly,     . 

Matthew,  v.  14, 

do. 

J801 

"     Aaron  Bancroft, 

Worcester, 

Isaiah,  ix.  21,22,     . 

do. 

1802 

"     Thos.  Baldwin,  A.  M. 

Boston, 

1  Peter,  ii.  16,  . 

do. 

1803 

"     Reuben  Puffer, 

Berlin, 

Luke,  xix.  44,  . 

do. 

1804 

"     Sam.  Kendall,  A.  M. 

VV'eston,     . 

Deut.  xxxii.  46,  47.   . 

do. 

1805 

"     John  Allyn, 

Duxborough, 

Kom.x  l,&ix  1,2,3 

do. 

1806 

"     Sam.  Sliepard,A.  M. 

Lenox, 

1  Chron.  xxix.  12,     . 

do. 

1807 

"     Wm.  Bentley,      " 

Salem, 

Peut.  xxxiii.  3, 

do. 

1808 

"     Thomas  Allen,      " 

Pittsfield,  . 

1  Timothy,  iv.  8, 

do. 

1809 

"     David  Osgood,  D.  D 

Medford,    . 

Judges,  ix.  56,  57,    . 

do. 

List  of  Preachers  continued  from  and  after  1809. 


1810 

Rev.  Elijah  Parish,  D.  D. 

Byfield,      . 

Romans,  xiii.  iv, 

8vo 

1811 

••    Thos.Thacher,  A.M. 

Dedham,    . 

Judges,  viii  23,24,  . 

do. 

1812 

"     Edmund  Foster,  '• 

Littleton,  . 

ICor.xii.  18,  19,20,21 

do. 

1813 

"     William  Allen,  D.  D. 

Piitsfield,  . 

John,  xviii.  36,  . 

do. 

1814 
1815 

'     Jesse  Applelon,    " 
'    James  Flint.          " 

Brunswick, 
E.  Bridgewater, 

ls;iiah,  xxxiii.  6, 
Deut.  iv.  9, 

do. 
do. 

1816 

'     John  T.  Kirkland," 

Harvard  Univ.  . 

Psalms,  cvi.  45, 

do. 

1817 

'     Thomas  Snell,      " 

N.  Brookfield,  . 

Isaiah,  iv.  5, 

do. 

1818 

'     Zeph.  S.  Moore,  " 

Amherst,    . 

Mark,  ii.  27,  28, 

do. 

1819 

'     Peter  Eaton,         " 

Box  ford,    . 

Romans,  iii.  1,  2, 

do. 

1820 

'     William  Jenks,     " 

Boston, 

2  Cor.  iii.  17,    . 

do. 

1821 

"     Henry  Ware,        " 

Harvard  Univ.  . 

Acts,  xvii.  26,  . 

do. 

It-.  22 

D.  Huntington,  A.  M.   Hadle}-,     . 

Acts,  xviii.  14,  15,    . 

do. 

1823 

Nathl.  Thayer,  D.  D.   Lancaster, 

Deut.  xx  vi.  19, 

do. 

1824 

'     Daniel  Sharp,       " 

Boston, 

Jer.  xxx.   19,  20,  21, 

do. 

1825 

Wm.  B.  Sprague,  " 

WestSpiingfield, 

Luke,  xii.  48,    . 

do. 

1826 

Orville  Dewey,  A.M. 

New  Bedford,    . 

Psalms,  Ixxxiii.  2,  3, 

do. 

1827 

Mos.  Stuart,  S.  T.  P.  Andover,  . 

2  Cor.  xiii.  17, 

do. 

1828 

James  Walker,  D.  D.  (,'harlestown,      . 

Exodus,  xviii.  21, 

do. 

1829 

Wilbur  Fisk,         " 

W  II  bra  ham, 

1  Peter,  iv.  7,   . 

do. 

1830 

W.  E.  Channing,  " 

Boston, 

John,  viii.  31,32,36, 

do. 

78 


Year. 

BY  WHOM. 

OP  WHAT  PLACE. 

TEXT. 

SIZE. 

1831 

Rev.  L.  VVithington,  A.  M. 

Nrwburyport,    . 

Tims,  ii.  15, 

8vo 

1832 

4      Paul  Dean, 

Boston, 

Romans,  xiii.  1, 

do. 

1833 

'      \V.B.O.Peabody,AM 

Springfield, 

Acts,  xxii.  28,   . 

do. 

1834 

'     3.  W.  Yeomaus,    " 

I'itlsfield,  . 

Matthew,  vi.  33, 

do. 

1835 

'     J.M.\Vain\v.ight,Dr> 

Hoslon, 

Deut.  xv.  11,    . 

do. 

1836 

'      Aiidw.  Bigelow,A.M. 

Tauiilon,    . 

Exodus,  xiv.  15, 

do. 

ERRATA. 

Page  38,  line  4th,  (Note,)  for  "  his  own  times,"  read  his  times 
"    47,  top  line,  for  "judicially,"  read  judiciously. 


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